The Real Steeles
by LizD
Summary: COMPLETE at long last - such that it is Sequel to Cold Steel Honesty ... the one I said I wouldn't write.
1. Chapter 1

The Real Steeles

Tracy Lords – formerly known as Collette DuBois, formerly known as Bonnie O'Parker, formerly known as Nora Charles, formerly known as Laura Holt – studied her reflection in the mirror. This new life was going to take some getting used to … at least more ginseng to help her memory. She ran her hands through her freshly styled and blonded locks.

"You said a whole new look, Ms. Lords." The stylist reminded her nervous that the transformation was too severe.

Tracy nodded slowly. "Well … They say blondes have more fun." She thought to herself, '_Not sure how much more 'fun' a girl could have, but …_'

"Make up and nails, Ms Lords?" The young woman asked.

"Soup to nuts." She declared.

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It had been just under six weeks since their escape (as she had taken to thinking of it) from Los Angeles. The first five days were – to say the least – uncomfortable. She had never been a good camper. She didn't like being hungry, tired or dirty, but something had switched off or on in her that changed her whole outlook. She had thrown out the rulebook she had been living by for the past eight years and was up for anything. She didn't complain about the accommodations on the fishing boat or the fact that the champagne was cheap, domestic and warm. She didn't balk at the predawn transfer with the rest of the contraband to a freighter bound for the South Seas. She accepted with uncharacteristic zeal their job in the galley feeding 35 lasciviously hungry pirates. She threw herself in to the role of associate to the fabulous Parisian decorator Sebastian LeFeete for the Lindstrom's bungalow on one of the smaller islands in Fiji (bungalow? 6500 square feet with six bathrooms). And she easily relaxed into vacation mode – sans le nom - when they were finally alone at Heaven's Door: a two-story villa on 37 rolling acres that overlooked the gorgeous Coral Cost of Viti-Levu, Fiji.

There was little or no discussion between them as each new role was presented but there was no need. They were completely in sync. He had said she was a natural – her accents needed work – but a natural. She felt she was anything but, but she was having fun.

Laura actually was a natural. She had been in the detective game so long she knew how to read people and size them up quickly. She knew how to solicit information without attracting attention. She knew how to get them on her side without effort. And her biggest asset: she knew how to lie close enough to the truth as not to get caught up in some implausible scenario down the road. She actually reined him back a few times when his stories got too convoluted.

Clearly the most enjoyable role she had taken on since the unceremonious departure from the life she had created was one where she had no name or fake persona at all. It was the 11 uninterrupted days at the villa. It could not have been more romantic: relaxing in the sun, playing in the surf, dancing in the moonlight, dining on gourmet fare. The entire experience was more than intoxicating with or without the tropical concoctions they experimented with. She could not have planned a better honeymoon. They didn't refer to it as a 'honeymoon' but for all intents and purposes it was two weeks of bonding physically and emotionally like they had never known or believed was possible (aka a honeymoon).

It was not all perfect. There were times when tempers got testy; there were hours when they didn't speak at all. Do not misunderstand. It was not because they were angry at each other; rather it was because they were just lost. They didn't know how to be unemployed together (KP duty and picking swatches notwithstanding). A vacation was one thing, but as one day stretched out in front of the next with no end in sight an uneasy feeling developed. For the most part it was a lot of swimming, eating, drinking and … romance … more ROMANCE than these two were comfortable with after the previous four years. It was a new role for each and very scary for both. The honesty policy was still in place (not that either one was asking pointed questions) and there was very little talk about the future or the past. Both knew that it would end sooner than later, and both were trying to hang on to the moment for as long as they could; yet still anticipating the future.

Toward the end of the two weeks – about five and a half weeks away from LA – Laura was getting uncontrollably antsy. She had taken to waking before dawn and running on the beach for miles. The last two days, he had joined her. One morning they were running in silence - each absorbed in their own thoughts. For no apparent reason she stopped. He had gone several steps further before he too stopped.

"Something?" He panted.

She placed her hands on her hips and tried to catch her breath walking in slow circles around him. "Nothing." She lied.

"Laura …" He drawled.

"How long do we stay here?" She asked. She still had no good name to call him.

"Until the money runs out." He panted knowing full well that they could live for months on that little island on what he had stashed away, or longer if they stopped pretending like they were rich tourists.

She shook her head not liking the answer.

The truth was he was getting bored too – well, not bored so much as restless. He had discovered that the idea of 'living on a deserted island with a beautiful woman' sounded better than it really was. "Tomorrow." He answered. "Day after."

"Where to?" She asked … really asked, she wasn't trying to bait him.

"Australia, Tokyo …" He told her.

She nodded holding back what she wanted to ask.

"What?" He prodded.

"Nothing." She started to jog down the beach again.

He kept pace with her. "Laura." He asked after he was sure she wasn't about to say anything.

"Nothing." She said again but then changed her mind. "I don't like running." She said casually.

He laughed. "I can think of several other ways to work up a sweat." He smirked.

"Not that kind of running." She explained even though she knew he knew exactly what she meant.

"Yeah … so … then we go back home." He said evenly not really sure how exactly they were going to do that.

"Home?" She stopped in her tracks.

"Yeah." He stopped running and tried to catch his breath. "Let's go home." He told her honestly.

"How?" She wasn't sure if he was just saying what she wanted to hear or if he really meant it. She had been very careful in her criticism, because she had a feeling in the pit of her stomach that if he thought she were unhappy or homesick, then he would probably drop her off at the nearest airport with a ticket for LA and disappear from her life. Now that she had seen how easy it was to disappear, she knew that it would be difficult to catch up with him if he were truly trying to hide from her.

"Don't have a clue." He said clearly.

She thought about it quickly. It was obvious. "We go through Ireland."

"Laura!" He warned.

She stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "We go back together – or not at all." She told him. "We go back legit … or not at all."

He thought for a moment. "Ireland?"

She nodded. "The Emerald Isle." She confirmed.

He kissed her. In all his life, he had never known anyone who was so willing to sacrifice so much to help him. She was truly an amazing creature – and grew more amazing every day. A plan was hatched to fly to Ireland and find his roots. There were hopes that they would be home by Christmas. It made the last days at the villa more precious.

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The next morning they went into the village. He was going to find transportation and she was to go to the bank. He was to find the acquaintance that had set them up at the Villa and she was to collect the contents of their safety deposit box. It felt good to have a mission again, even a small one. It felt good to think that they were on their way back home. There was no way to anticipate the information that was about to come their way or how it was to totally alter their plans.

It came to them at almost the same time. Laura was shopping and had decided to pick up a paper. She could have chosen the London Times, but opted for the LA Times instead. It wasn't a front-page article and she may never have noticed it if she hadn't dropped the paper by accident. It was a small article on the lower third in the corner. She didn't recognize the pictures at first, it was the headline that caught her eye: "Search for Steeles Goes Global". Below it were their pictures and an article saying that the police were widening their search and contacting international agencies to help them locate Laura Holt and the man posing as Remington Steele in connection with the murder of Norman Keyes. He had gone missing the night they had left Los Angeles. The police suspected murder but were still searching for the body.

Laura closed the paper quickly worried that someone might recognize her from her picture. She needed to find him. She couldn't allow him to be blindsided by this information or worse be arrested. She was headed back to their rendezvous place when he pulled her into an alley.

"Keyes is dead." He told her quickly.

"And they think we did it." She pushed the paper at him. "How did you …?"

"Ozzie." He told her. "He has known for weeks, but was hoping we would stay down until it blew over."

"Blew over?" She was annoyed at the ignorance. "This is murder … it's not going to blow over!"

"I realize that." He was trying to stay under control.

"He knew?" She scoffed.

He explained. "And chose to believe that we knew and were hiding out."

"That is unacceptable." She was livid.

"Laura … this is how it is on this side of the game." He explained. "People keep information to themselves … well the good ones."

"We have to go back … clear our names." She told him.

"Just how do you expect to do that?"

"We weren't in Los Angeles when Keyes was killed." She reminded him.

"No … we weren't." He remembered. "We were making an illegal escape from the US and from the INS on a fishing boat headed for a meeting with …"

"So … they can give us an alibi." She reasoned.

"Laura … they won't …" He explained. "That's the deal … we were never there … they were never there."

"I hate this." She announced as if she had been thinking it for weeks and was finally given an opportunity to say it.

"I know … I'm sorry." He was not taking responsibility for the situation, but he was sorry that she hated it. He knew that was not built for living outside the law and he was sorry that the first serious bump and her true feelings came out. He was sorry that she had been acting for the past six weeks. He was sorry that it was all about to come to an end with little hope in sight.

She heard the tone in his voice. She knew she had hurt him. That had not been her intention. She was just frustrated. Laura was never good at living under someone else's control. She was out of her element and vulnerable. The worst part was the injustice of it all. They had done nothing wrong – save leaving town for some silly immigration issue. If she hadn't gone with him, she would have been there to clear their names – at least his name; she probably wouldn't have been implicated if she had stayed.

"Go back to the Villa." He told her as he turned away. "I will be there in an hour."

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"To find a way back to Los Angeles." With that he turned on his heel and walked away.

She didn't like that plan. He could not go back with or without the Keyes development. They would throw him in jail the moment he set foot on US soil. He knew that. He knew that she knew. He wasn't going to find a way back for them, he was going to find a way back for her – and then he would disappear. He probably thought he was being noble. She hated it when he was noble.

On the other hand if she went back without him, she could work to clear their names. If they came up with a way to stay in contact, she could alert him when it was safe to return. However, they would probably throw her in jail for her role in Keyes' death and for helping him flee the country. So she couldn't go back either – at least not without proof of their innocence. She was not sure he knew that.

She looked back down at the article. There was something strange about it. They hadn't found Keyes' body but they had no other suspects and apparently didn't suspect that he had gone missing on his own. There were pieces missing – more to the story. She wondered how much she could find out from their little tropical paradise or how close they could get to LA without risking too much.

On the other side of the article was an advertisement that caught Laura's eye.

**Misplace your keyes, your bosses, your passports?**

**Need to boost your Visa limit? **

**Trying to get home but can't find the way?**

**Contact the Amazing Madam K!**

**Madam K knows all!**

**Madam K sees all!**

**Madam K tells all!**

"Dear Mildred." Laura smiled. "Need to teach you about being subtle." She laughed. He would know how to contact her in anonymity – and more than likely how to get her to respond the same way.

She looked down at her picture again. She had always hated that picture – her hair was too poofy, and her smiled was crooked – he of course was GORGEOUS. That man couldn't take a bad picture. She caught her reflection in the show window. She needed a new look. Caddy corner from where she was standing was a hair salon. She made a decision. If they were looking for Laura Holt, then Laura Holt would have to disappear.

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Laura arrived back at the Villa two hours later. He didn't immediately recognize her as she was walking up the drive. Her clothes were different, her walk was different, her hair was different, and her make up was different. He was about to duck out of sight, when she took off her sunglasses and called out.

"Ahoy the Villa." She drawled with a hint of a southern accent.

He stepped out on to the balcony. "Ahoy." He puzzled. "May I help you?" He asked.

"Looking for Nicky Charles." She flipped her blonde hair off her face and flashed her blue eyes at him.

"Who may I say is calling?" He started down the stairs to get a closer look. The transformation was incredible. He didn't know if he liked it, but it was clear that no one who didn't really know her would recognize her. More than the hair, colored contacts and wardrobe – she had a very different air about her: sexy and spoiled, lazy and reckless.

"Lords … Tracy Lords." She stepped up to him and dropped her bags.

"How did you get my name?" He scanned her up and down.

"From a friend." She dragged her freshly polished red nails up his chest and laced her fingers behind his neck. "She had to leave … UNEXPECTEDLY … sent me to keep you company." She pulled him down for a teasing kiss.

"This friend have a name?" He took her arms off his neck and held them tightly against his chest.

"Nora … Laura … Maura … something like that." She tried to kiss him again, but he kept her at bay. "She wasn't much of a friend." She declared.

"My wife." He said sternly. For some reason he really didn't like this character she was portraying and he didn't like what it meant. It meant she wasn't going home. It meant that they were both still in danger of being caught. It meant that he couldn't do what he needed to do to take care of the situation – namely, HIDE. This Tracy Lords was changing his plans. He wanted to fight her on this, but she had so completely transformed he didn't know where to start or how to turn it off. "Laura is my wife."

"Your wife?" She laughed evilly. "That button-down, hospital-corners, plays-by-the-rules egghead was your wife?"

"Still is." He stated firmly. "I'm not giving her up."

Laura dropped out of character. "You mean that don't you."

"Yes, I do." He was not happy.

"Interesting." She declared.

"Why?" He asked.

"I didn't know you considered yourself married." She was truly surprised. Regardless of the marriage or the fact that they had been physically a couple for nearly six weeks, she really wasn't sure that the vows they had taken had meant anything or not. She chose not to think about it.

He didn't want to discuss what was or was not going on in his head. He needed to discuss this new development. "What do you think you're doing?" He asked.

"Hiding in plain sight." She told him. "We are going to figure this out together and go home together - - or not at all."

"I appreciate your initiative Laura, but …"

"But nothing … this is how it's going to be." She told him. "We are going to Ireland to find your name, we are getting your paperwork in order and then we will deal with this Keyes situation." She stated. "With any luck, the police will have figured out that we had nothing to do with his death by then."

"Laura …" He warned.

"This is not up for discussion." She pulled away from him and started up the stairs. She dropped into her Tracy Lords drawl again. "Get my bags … will you, hon?"

He followed her with his eyes. He had known women like the character she was playing, he had been with women who were spoiled and reckless as she was acting. He never expected to be with anyone like that again … not after Laura. He felt everything turn out of his control. Laura was again in the lead; the only difference was that this time she was totally out of her depth. He knew that if she didn't.

"Be careful, love." He said under his breath. "You are playing with matches."

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The morning they were to leave Laura noticed how much he had changed as well. He had shaved off most of the beard he had been growing leaving a very ominous looking goatee. His hair had grown out wildly and was touching his shoulders. She had playfully called him a beach bum over the weeks, but now he was just dead sexy in his untailored linen suit, and combed back hair.

"Mr. Steele no longer." She said to herself as she watched him pack.

He looked up at her. "Did you say something?"

She came up behind him. "Just noticing how different you look." She wrapped her arms around him and looked at their reflection in the mirror.

"Different?" He asked looking at their reflection. "It's only a beard, Laura."

"No." She sighed. "It's more than that … you look … I don't know …" She searched for a word. "Dangerous … treacherous …a scoundrel." She had to think that if he had been a character on TV that this would be the look of his evil twin.

He laughed. He checked his reflection out in the mirror and tried to see what she saw. It was true, he did not look like the clean-cut pretty boy he was as Remington Steele. If he were forced to choose, he would have taken freshly shaven and tailored suits any day. "You couldn't pass for your passport picture either." He leaned back into her.

"I guess not." That comment made her think. It was true. She didn't recognize herself any more. '_Be careful what you pretend to be, because you are what you pretend to be.' _She pulled away from him.

"Laura?" He quizzed.

She snapped her attention back to him. "Exactly."

"Huh?"

"I am Laura … Laura Holt … Steele … Laura Holt-Steele … and only you and I will know that … only you and I will remember that." She cried. "I have to trust that I can keep myself honest … be true to myself … I can't lose myself in … in … in …" She nearly broke down.

"In me?" He asked.

"In this game we are playing." She corrected. "It's different for you … you slip in and out of personas like changing your clothes … it may be second nature to you, but it's not for me." She turned away from him.

He pulled her back physically with his touch and emotionally with his voice. "It's not second nature any more … it's a suit that doesn't fit." He turned her completely to face him. "Laura … I am Remington Steele … maybe not the Remington Steele you had in mind …."

"I'm not sure I could have made you up." She said with a smile.

"Disappointed?" He asked.

"Not at all … the reality is so much better than the fantasy." She kissed him. "But how can you be so sure?" She asked, really wanting to know.

"Be so sure?"

"That you are Remington Steele?" She shook the thought away. "That you know who you are?'

"Because for the first time in my life I am comfortable in my own skin." He said easily as if he had been thinking it for a long time. "I'm not worried that you will see through me … that all the stuff that came before helped to shape me … but it doesn't prevent me from being who I want to be." He added, "Or who I want to be with."

She was totally shocked by his honest declaration. "Wow." She turned away from him.

"What?" He followed.

"I am not sure I can handle so much honesty." She smiled.

"Be careful what you ask for." He wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her neck.

"Then tell me one more thing." She turned to face him and struggled to find the right way to ask what she needed to know but feared to hear. "Where is home to you?" She was prepared for him to say he didn't have a home.

He smiled. "Are you expecting that I will say my home is wherever you are?"

She laughed. "I would hope that you wouldn't be so … so … Lifetime."

He nodded. "Los Angeles … my home is Los Angeles … my career is as a partner in a detective agency … my life is with my wife." He stated.

"You use that word a lot." She stated referring to his 'wife' comment.

"You don't think of me as your husband?" He wasn't hurt, he was just asking.

"Honestly … I'm still getting used to the idea that you are my lover."

He pulled her to him. "Well that is a step in the right direction." He kissed her and carried her back to bed to continue to help her get used to that idea.

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Tracy Lords looked out over the water with her second martini in hand. She actually hadn't had more than a sip of the first one, but it was a show she had to put up for her new companion. Tracy's story was that she was in trouble with father. He had cut her off in Fiji and told her to find her own way home with or without her latest boy-toy.

Enter Morgan Farnsworth-Whiting of the Philadelphia Farnsworths. She was about Laura's age, newly married to Jason Whiting, a very wealth family from New York who has business interests with the Farnsworths. It could be called an arranged marriage – there was certainly no love but there was an expectation of children. Morgan had never worked a day in her life, never finished a college course and would never have to lift a finger to maintain her rich bitch lifestyle. So she was very sympathetic to the control the family can exert over the purse strings – and consequently Tracy's current predicament.

Morgan was on an extended holiday with her husband. He had just returned to the states to take care of some business, but would join her in Monte Carlo in a week. Morgan had the family jet and was headed to their home in the South of France and offered to take Tracy and her lover as far as there and to put them up for a week or more. Since Tracy had no intention of going home, France was as good a destination as any.

"So where is this mystery lover of yours?" Morgan asked as she nodded to the waiter for her third drink.

Tracy looked over her glasses at her. "Can't put a watch on that man … but he will be along."

Just then Morgan sat up and licked her lips. Tracy followed her eye and saw her lover strolling up the beach. "Yours?" Morgan asked.

"Mine." Tracy confirmed.

"Share?" Morgan scanned him lustily.

"Sorry … Not clothes, not jewelry." She rose to greet him. "And not men."

"When you're done?" Morgan begged.

"When I am done." Tracy confirmed.

Tracy walked over to him and kissed him hard. He wasn't sure what role he was supposed to play. He had gotten a cryptic call saying that she had found transportation and to meet her at the restaurant down the beach. He decided to let her take the lead. He kissed her back and let his hands do more exploring than he normally would have publicly (egged on by her PDA no doubt). Surprisingly he found that he didn't like this role. He wanted to protect her; not exploit her and he really didn't like how men looked at her – or women for that matter. But she was in the driver's seat so he played along. He kissed down her neck, holding her close knowing that she would take the opportunity to catch him up.

"Father cut me off and left me to find my own way home preferably without my lover." She whispered into his ear before sucking his ear lobe between her teeth. "Jeffrey Matthews … no profession."

He whispered back. "Jeffery Matthews?"

She explained. "Gidget, Sandra Dee, James Darren, Columbia, 1959"

He smirked. "Needed to widen your movie going horizon, Tracy."

"Oh Moondoggie." She cooed softly. "You can widen any horizon of mine you like." She kissed him again. This time is was not for show, but if it killed two birds …

Introductions were made and Jeffery decided to play aloof, mysterious and sexy. He chose to flirt with Morgan behind Tracy's back and that seemed to satisfy her for the moment. He had to trust that Laura would keep Morgan in check for however long the three of them were together.

Dinner and drinks was to break the ice, Morgan was always the first to offer to bring people into her circle and she was typically the first to regret it. They were set to fly out in the morning. She liked Tracy and was charmed by Jeffrey. Interestingly enough, neither Tracy nor Jeffery thought twice of Morgan, they were both involved in the change their relationship was taking with these new personas.

Tracy had gotten up to 'powder her nose' leaving Morgan and Jeffrey alone.

"How long have you and Tracy been …" Morgan dove right in.

"About six weeks." He answered honestly … a policy Laura had taught him.

"Six weeks?" She was surprised it was so long.

"Tracy bores easily." He tried to convince her that the romance was nearly over.

"And you?" She purred.

"I don't quite have that luxury." He said simply.

"Her father has cut her off." Morgan reminded him trying to lure him away.

"Fathers never completely cut their daughters off." He smiled evilly. "Nor do husbands … not when there is a man around."

"Very true." She agreed. "But there is always another daughter."

"Or wife." He corrected.

"Exactly." She leaned in to whisper to him. "Just how loyal are you?"

Tracy came back before he could answer. He maintained his distance for the rest of the night, but he felt Morgan watching his every move and he was compelled to be less than attentive to Tracy.

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Morgan watched her new friends walk away. She smiled to herself and nodded to the man who had been watching them all evening. He joined her.

"And?" She pushed when he didn't speak immediately.

He tossed the folded newspaper he had under his arm at her. "Without a doubt … Remington Steele and Laura Holt."

She picked it up, looked at the pictures and then back down the beach. "I don't see it." She said again.

"Trust me." He picked up her glass and drained it.

"And what do we get for turning them in?" She tossed the paper back at him.

"All charges will be dropped." He said.

She shook her head. "Fine … change the flight plan."

The man got up and left.

Morgan looked saddened. She never liked being a rat, but sometimes it was a necessary evil.

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This is a TEST BALLOON … and one interested in seeing where this goes? It won't be quick, but it could be fun.


	2. Chapter 2

The Real Steeles – Part 2

* * *

There was almost no discussion as our two lovers meandered down the beach back to the villa. At first they were arm-in-arm with her head near his shoulder (merely to keep up appearances), then apart but together, at one point Laura dropped back a few paces.

Laura was in her own head. She didn't want to admit it, but she was jealous – more than jealous she was insulted. He was fine; he did nothing wrong except too easily accept the role but that was her fault. It was Morgan that had set Laura off. Her flirting with and drooling over Moondoggie right in front of her (and worse behind her back) was bad enough. But her ready acceptance of Tracy Lords and her boy toy was too much of an insult for Laura Holt to take. Laura was nothing like Tracy and even Tracy had more character than Morgan. Laura's dislike of this woman that she was portraying and the one she was using made her doubt everything. Why did Morgan want to help Tracy? Could she be trusted? Was Morgan really who she pretended to be for Tracy surely was not? How dangerous could it be to get on a plane with her? There were many more questions about Morgan than there were good answers. Who was that man sitting at the bar? Yes, Laura noticed him; she couldn't help but notice him. He had been studying her all night. Laura was not so immersed in her new persona as to think that men found her irresistible from afar. The biggest concern for Laura was not that Morgan was not who she pretended to be but how much damage could and already had been done by Tracy getting involved with her?

Laura looked up at her husband a few steps in front of her. It was the first time that she actually thought of him as a husband - a partner in crime, a partner in business, a partner in life; a permanent fixture in her life, for better for worse (and it could get a lot worse). It surprised her how comforting that feeling was – she had always expected it to be unnerving particularly with him. Somehow she knew he wouldn't chide her for her mistake regardless of the damage that was done, but that didn't mean she should let it go. She was just about to voice her concern, when he turned, waited for her to get even with him, took her hand and pressed it firmly. She looked down and smiled to herself. They were in sync and they would take care of the situation. It was a hard lesson for her to learn again, but they were better together and in these kinds of situations, he was the master and she was the apprentice – but she was learning.

When they arrived back at the villa he leaned down and kissed her quickly before letting her hand go. "I'll be back in an hour." He felt no need to explain and knew that she wouldn't ask.

She didn't. She had her own 'hour long' something to take care of.

* * *

After Steele had driven away, Laura pulled off one her earrings off headed back to the restaurant with the excuse of looking for her lost jewelry. The bar was nearly empty. The tipsy Tracy Lords made a big show and solicited help from the waiters and bus boys to help in the search. Finally when the search for the missing earring was called off, she sat down at the bar. Soon and with very little effort, the bartender (an ex-patriot from Boston) was charmed by Ms Tracy Lords and was talking up a storm.

"Ms. Farnsworth-Whiting is not the blue blood she pretends to be … if you know what I mean." The bartender had known the Whitings for years ever since coming to the island about 10 years ago. He remembered when Morgan first showed up on the scene about a year ago. She was common as trash - a gold digger. "And a bad tipper." He whispered to her. "And that man she is with is not her husband."

"Man?" Laura prompted knowing full well to whom he was referring.

"Yes, the one that was at the bar all night watching you … I wondered why he didn't join you, but I guess he didn't think it was appropriate … not really the kind of guy you bring home to mother."

With a little more discussion, Laura got his name and room number and was informed that it was unlikely he would be there at that hour. More than likely he would be slipping in the back door at the Whiting villa down the shore.

Laura let her self into his room via the beach entrance. She found the newspaper folded back with their pictures on it and a Los Angeles phone number written above the article. She couldn't be sure, but it was for downtown LA and more than likely was police headquarters or at the very least immigration. In his kit bag, she found three US passports.

"How do people get these?" She shook her head remembering all the drama it took to get her first passport when she was 18 and again to replace it at 28.

She took down all the names and put them back where she found them. From his room, she made the call to the local authorities pretending to be a concerned hotel worker. They were not as interested as she wanted them to be until she got to the last name on her list. He was wanted in connection with the death of a night watchman at a bank in Melbourne. She told them about the flight out the next day and that he would be with a woman. When she described the woman – a known accomplice - she too was wanted in the US and was probably connected to the Melbourne incident.

Laura slipped out of his room and back to the Villa. It didn't occur to her that she was doing to them, exactly what they were about to do to her and Steele – turning them in without hearing all the details. That wouldn't bother her until later.

* * *

By time Steele got back to the villa, she had them completely packed and was waiting not so patiently for him.

"We have to go." She told him when he walked in the door.

He held up two airline tickets. "Aukland … leaves in 90 minutes." They were thinking alike, but he didn't know why. "What happened?"

"Nothing yet … but we were discovered." She explained.

"By?" He prompted.

"The man." She picked up her bag and walked toward the door.

"Which man?"

"The one sitting at the bar when we were at dinner." She reminded him. "You didn't you notice him? No, I am sure you didn't … too interested in Morgan."

"I noticed him looking at you." He said jealously and dismissing hers. "I noticed that he had a very keen interest in both you and Morgan."

"Actually his interest was for you and I – he knows Morgan." She corrected. "And you didn't notice that he was carrying an LA Times under his arm … and that he joined Morgan after we left."

"I didn't notice that." He owned. "How did you?"

"I saw them together when I looked back." She added. "I found the paper in his room." She pulled it out of her side pocket.

"His room?"

"He is also a man with many names and apparently is also being sought by the Australian police."

"You dropped a dime on him?" Steele was nothing more than shocked.

Laura felt something else from him. More than shock it was disapproval. For the first time Laura really realized that what she did might not have been the right thing to do. What gave her the right to out them? She was on the same side of the law that Moran and her friend were. It was going to take some getting used to. "We have to go." She turned and walked out the door.

Steele looked back at the place they had celebrated the beginning of their lives together – hopeless romantic that he was. He hoped that the ending wouldn't taint all that they had shared and wondered if they would ever make it back that way in the future.

* * *

The Next Day at the Pier in Auckland New Zealand 

Laura hung up the phone. "Done." She stated.

"Done?" He asked.

"Done and done." She repeated.

"Done?" He asked again. "And Done?"

"I said it was done." She snapped. "I'm not happy about it and I'm more than a little embarrassed." She turned away from him.

"Embarrassed?" He touched her arm and directed her to turn back toward him. "Embarrassed? … Laura –"

"I really don't want to talk about it." She barked. "I don't like this Tracy Lords persona." She pulled at her hair. "She is narcissistic, cold and mercenary."

"Not really my kind of woman either." He smirked. "I like them fiery, smart and independent."

She laughed. "Since when?"

He lowered his voice and whispered in her ear. "Since the day Laura Holt crossed my path."

"I see." She dismissed.

"She has other qualities I admire as well." He linked his arm through hers.

"Oh?"

"Dedicated, generous, forgiving, philanthropic, fair, adventurous, understanding, won't take no for an answer. To name a few …" He glanced at her. "And did I mention, she is dead sexy."

"She sounds too good to be true."

"I have often thought so." He commented.

Laura stopped and glared at him. "Ok … stop it."

"Stop it?" He thought he was being nice.

"Stop being so nice … so condescending … so damned patronizing … you were right, I was wrong … I took care of it."

"Ok."

"Ok?" She repeated. "I don't believe you … why don't you gloat or something … tell me that --."

"That your plan was reckless." He cut her off. "That it nearly got us caught ... that you trust too easily and still believe that the system works?"

"The system does work … Morgan Fairchild—"

"Farnsworth." He corrected.

"Whatever … is on her way to jail."

"And probably telling anyone who will listen that she knows where The Steeles are." He reminded her.

"You don't think I know that?" She had blown any kind of lead they had. "I'm sorry."

"Accepted." He said easily without the need to gloat or rub her face in it. "Something more is bothering you."

Laura was reluctant to admit the issue but in the end she blurted it out. "How do we know that she was any more guilty of her crimes – whatever they are - than we are of ours?"

"We don't." He said simply.

"The phone call could very easily gone the other way, and we would be the ones in custody."

"That is true." He added. "And would have been if we had met that plane."

"So we win because we were what … Smarter? Faster?"

"Luckier." He explained. "We win THIS TIME because we were luckier."

"I don't like relying on luck." She snapped. "I don't believe in luck, I believe in hard work … and earning what you get in life."

He smiled. "If it weren't for luck, my love … I never would have made it this far."

"And you are OK with that?"

He shrugged. "I am … it was luck that brought you into my life." He tried to put his arm around her shoulders.

She shrugged him off. "But it was not luck that kept you there." She reminded him.

"I consider myself lucky every day." He grinned.

She shook her head dismissing his comment. "So now what?" She asked. "What are we doing in New Zealand?"

"Well … actually … something you might like … a little honest to goodness detective work … earning our passage … so to speak."

She waited for an explanation.

"As we make our way to Sydney."

"What is in Sydney?"

"One step closer to Ireland, I imagine." He flashed her a smile to let her know that their plan to go home was still in play in spite of the set back with Morgan Farnsworth and Tracy Lords. "We have passage on the MS Volendam." He nodded to the cruise ship in the harbor.

"How did we manage that?"

"The captain thinks that there are thieves aboard … the crew no doubt … and wants to catch them red handed."

"Do you know this captain, too?"

"Never met him before … but he knows a guy who knows a guy …"

"I get it." She stopped the explanation. "How long have you been working on this?"

"Couple three days … before Morgan Farnsworth … before Tracy Lords." He grinned.

"You didn't tell me."

"Wasn't sure there was much to tell, until last night after dinner."

"Does he know who we are?" She was shocked at the public display they were about to make. Quite a risk.

He took a quick glance at her trying to size up how she would react to this news. "David Addison and Maddie Hayes … Blue Moon Investigations." He said quickly.

"You're kidding right?" She almost laughed.

"Your blonde hair inspired me." He smirked.

"It will never work." She stated. "You have too much hair and I don't have enough …" She lifted her blouse and looked down at her chest. "I could never pass for the most photographed model turned detective in the world."

He laughed and linked his arm through hers. "We are in disguise."

"Wow … it's no wonder Blue Moon is so good … there is no limit to the lengths they will go for a case … plastic surgery … hair plugs … not to mention taking a case halfway around the world."

"Yes … we are the best."

* * *

The cruise was 16 days around New Zealand and finally docking in Sydney. The meeting with the captain was a bit of a tap dance. They were led into his cabin and he was attending to another matter. Steele and Laura both noticed the cover of Glamour magazine sitting on his desk from 1972 with Maddie Hayes picture on it. A panic ran through them.

Steele looked at Laura, "Air brushing?" He offered as a possible explanation.

It was then that the captain entered and was clearly surprised to see someone who looked nothing like his dream girl of his youth. He looked back down at the magazine that he hoped to have autographed.

"Good Day Captain." Laura stuck her hand out to him. "MacGillicudy … Jamie MacGillicudy." She shook his hand firmly. "We regret to inform you that neither Ms. Hayes nor Mr. Addison were able to break free from their case load and sent …" She looked at Steele. "Mr. Viola and myself to handle the case."

"I see." The captain was clearly disappointed.

"Please be assured that both Ms. Hayes and Mr. Addison will be monitoring our progress very closely."

"How?" The captain looked out the window to the harbor and sea beyond.

Steele jumped in. "Why don't you tell us the situation here?"

The captain explained that many of the passengers in the last seven cruises have reported that items were either stolen from their room or misplaced. Most of it was jewelry and watches, but there were a few occasions where money was stolen. He has narrowed down the crew that was common to all the cruises. He had set Maddie up in the Penthouse Suite (clearly he was interested in killed two birds with one stone, so to speak), but in light of the fact that the cruise was short handed several housekeeping staff and that as a housekeeper she would have access to the crew quarters as well as the rest of the ship it was decided that Jaime (Laura) would pose as a crew member and that Viola (Steele) would be the mark.

"This is a singles cruise Mr. Viola." The captain explained. "So that should give you a good opportunity to mix with the other passengers and to be out of your room a lot."

"A singles cruise." Steele grinned slyly. "Yes, indeed."

Laura was less than amused.

* * *

The next evening Laura was hoping to process the information she had acquired and compare notes with Steele. She went to his room with an armload of towels and let herself in. It was a massive suite with a view to die for. He wasn't there. She noticed that he had left the marked jewelry and money he was given out on the dressing table such that anyone with no conscience could steal it (not just the thief). She also noticed that he was living in the lap of luxury: Dom Perignon in the ice bucket chilling, fruit and cheese plate waiting to be unwrapped and the in-room dinner form filled out for two. She felt her eyes turn green.

Someone was at the door. Laura ducked into the bathroom.

It was Steele and he was with someone – a female someone one.

"Yes … Yes …" He was telling her. "I will be down to dinner in moments … just need to get dressed."

"I can help with that." The woman cooed in an Atlanta Peach drawl.

"Unnecessary." He directed her out of the room.

"Two shakes of a lamb's tail." She reminded him and allowed her self to be sent from the room after forcing a kiss on him.

Steele sunk into the closest chair and sighed. Laura stepped out from the bathroom.

"Laura … Thank God." He announced. "This case is going to kill me … you have to get me out of here … those women are nothing less than voracious."

"I can see that." She scowled. "Working your lips to the bone … as it were."

"Tap dancing." He corrected. "I am thinking about telling them I … well you know … lean the other way … but the men on board are more ravenous than the women."

"Why don't you tell them you are married?" She put her hand on her hip.

He walked over to her. "Told them that I was separated from my wife." He took her in his arms. "That work drove us apart." He kissed her cheek. "That we were contemplating our future and this time away was supposed to give us perspective."

"And in the last 24 hours …" She asked accepting his kisses but not returning them. "What perspective have you gained?"

"Well one thing is for certain …" He looked down into her eyes. "I don't like sleeping alone."

"I am sure that your Southern Belle would be happy to -."

He kissed her to stop her from talking. "Not interested." He said by way of shutting down the conversation.

"Have you discovered anything?" She asked. "Other than that the libido on board ship is at an all time high."

"Yes … Savannah … seriously her name is Savannah … takes this cruise at least once every couple of months and she knows the entire crew."

"Well I am not surprised." Laura added. "Everyone is sleeping with or related to everyone else – not that the cruise line or the captain know about it."

"A bit incestuous." He directed her toward the bed, but she pulled away from him.

"My roommate is the sister of the hear pursuer who is married to the head housekeeper, who is having an affair with head bartender who is divorcing the head cruise director who is the cousin of the head waiter who used to be married to the head chef …and the cruise director and the chef are now quite close."

"Truly a heady group." He wrapped his arms around her from behind but she was back in her Master Detective Mode.

"There is more." She pulled away from him. "They all seem to have this major issue with fraternizing with the guests."

"Trying to keep it all in the same gene pool – as it were." He joked.

"Everyone I have spoken to has mentioned it – more than mentioned it they have been down right adamant that the line between guest and crew member is never crossed." She looked up at him. "They were warning me – as a new crew member, they were warning me not to rock this boat."

"I think we should break with tradition." He pulled her hair free of the bun it was in.

"Don't you find that strange?" She asked him allowing him to comb his fingers through her hair.

"Common enough policy." He said distractedly. "Beginning to really like this blonde on you."

"From Management … but not from the crew." She replied. "It's as if peer pressure is more of a deterrent than fear of losing one's job."

"What are you thinking?"

Just then Laura's beeper went off. She looked down on it. "Like I said … this is not my floor … I am not supposed to be here … someone is watching me."

"Sounds like we should see what happens if you ignore them." He pulled her into his arms again.

"Stop … we are on a case." She resisted.

"Exactly … and that seems to be a clue to follow." He stated. "Why is the crew so interested in keeping the upper decks and lower decks divided?"

"I don't know." She leaned into him. "At least not yet." She kissed him. Her beeper went off again. "Gotta go." She smiled. "Don't let me catch Miss Peach Cobbler 1987 in your room, Mr. Viola … or it's violins for you."

"Not to worry, Mrs. Steele." He assured her as he followed her to the door. "I am sure I will need more towels…" He called out into the hallway. "… say around midnight."

* * *

She left the room, not bothering to put her hair up; in fact she opened the top two buttons on her uniform. She ducked down the back stairs and ran right into her roommate, Sally.

"Jaime … what do you think you were doing?" She demanded to know.

"Mr. Viola needed more towels." Jaime smiled triumphantly. "Just trying to keep the guests happy." She tried to walk past, but Sally grabbed her arm.

"You will ruin everything." She stated. "Don't let me –don't let anyone catch you in a guest's room when they are there … particularly THAT guest --."

"Why THAT guest … do you know him?" She asked.

Sally said less than she knew. "Mr. Viola is a friend of the captain … and a very important man."

"How important?"

"Just stay away from him." She stated again.

"It is he that will need to be told to stay away from me." Laura turned on her heel and continued down the stairs. Sally looked nervous.

* * *

Laura was off shift and stayed out of her room. She wandered around the ship trying to discover anything she could. She was beginning to believe that a the crew or a subset of them were all involved with the thefts, but in reviewing the notes from the captain, there really wasn't enough stolen to make the payoff worth the risk for that many people.

She was in the back galley kitchen when she over heard two men in a heated discussion.

"_He is not a friend of the captains, he is a detective … from Los Angeles, California, USA."_

"_What is he doing here?" _

"_What do you think he is doing here … investigating?" _

"_There is no way that the captain … or anyone else knows." He lowered his voice. "At least about us."_

"_Except Savannah Monroe."_

"_Maybe it's Savannah they are after."_

"_Savannah can take care of herself."_

"_She was never able to put this captain in her pocket … he is squeaky clean … if they catch her, she will tell … she will sing about all of it."_

"_No she won't … we have more on her than she has on us."_

"_Regardless, we are calling this one off."_

"_We can't … we are pulling into Grisborne in the morning … they will be there to meet the boat … we can't turn them away … we made a deal."_

"_I think this is a bad idea."_

Someone came into the galley and Laura ducked out but not without being noticed.

* * *

Steele – rather Viola was dining at the Captain's table. The captain on his right and Savannah was seated to his left. Above the table she appeared to be a charming southern belle with lots of stories from home, but under the table her feet were … very busy. Viola finally got a reprieve when there was some nose powdering to do.

"Savannah is quite a character." The captain said softly to Steele. "She is probably on this boat more than I am."

"Really." Steele let his eyes turn toward the far corner of the room where he had last seen her. An idea was hatching. "How well do you know her?"

"Just from the crews … she usually attaches herself to someone on each cruise … looks like you are the lucky one this time."

"Husband hunting?"

The captain took a sip from his wine glass. "No … at least I don't think so … the last couple of cruises she befriended a couple … went with them every where."

"Interesting."

"I think she is just lonely … and likes to be with people."

"Anything in common with these people other than Savannah."

The captain shrugged. "They were all wealthy … they were all first time cruisers." The captain looked at him. "Not sure what you are looking for."

"Neither am I." He smiled. "Just asking."

He put his hand in his pocket and noticed that his cabin key was gone. He wondered if Savannah were waiting for him, or if she was hoping he would not return. He was just about to get up to find out, when she returned and demanded a dance. As if by magic, by the end of the dance, his cabin key was returned. Steele had found his man … well woman. Now it was time to find Laura and tell her.

* * *

Laura was in her cabin near midnight pretending to sleep waiting for the right time to slip up to Steele's cabin to tell him what she found out. She heard Sally get up and leave, and then she heard the lock on her door set the bolt from the outside. She was locked in. She tried for an hour to pick the lock, but she didn't have her proper tools. She banged on the door for some passer by to let her out. No response.

* * *

By 6AM the ship was pulling into Grisborne harbor. About an hour later one of her crewmates came looking for her because she was late for her shift. Laura bolted past her making her way to the cargo hold. She waited and watched. Before too long the two men that she overheard the day before entered and prepared to offloading some crates. She followed. A man with a truck met them at the dock. The side of the truck read Marina Bistro and Catering. The crates were loaded on the trunk, and money exchanged hands. Laura decided not to confront them. They were not hired to catch the crew stealing from the food storage for their own profit, but she had leverage to ask them about the thefts.

Something else caught her eye on the dock. It was a man … a short, bald headed, stocky man with a cigar. He was meeting a woman who had been on the cruise. She told him something that was clearly very disturbing. He looked up at the ship and Laura and he locked eyes.

"Keyes." She said under her breath. "Keyes is alive. That bastard!" She was livid.

The man turned away quickly and climbed into the waiting car. The woman went with him. Laura ran down the gangway hoping to at least get a glimpse of the license plate, but was unable to. She needed to find Steele.

She went directly to the captain's office but was stopped before she got there.

"What are you in such a hurry to see the captain for?" The purser asked.

"This has nothing to do with you." She tried to get by. "I am not interested in the scam you have going."

"You seemed pretty interested a few minutes ago."

A clothed hand came around from behind and covered her nose and mouth and the lights went out.

* * *

Steele let him self into Savannah's room after he was sure she had gone ashore. It took some time, but he found where she was hiding her booty. It consisted of not only half of the marked money he had left out, a watch and a ring, but also several other items. One he recognized from another passenger who was sailing with his wife but it was clear that they were not together. It occurred to Steele that many more items than reported were being stolen and he probably wasn't the only one to discover Savannah's guilt.

By late afternoon he still hadn't seen Laura and was beginning to get concerned. She could have just been playing detective or maintaining her cover, but both ideas seemed unlikely. They would be setting sail again in a couple of hours so he set out to find her.

* * *

Laura woke sometime later. Her head was pounding and she was still a little groggy. She was no longer aboard ship and could just make it out leaving the harbor. She went to the Harbor Master's office to send a communication to Steele via the captain.

_**Discovered Keyes.  
**__**Grisbourne Harbor – gray or silver sedan.  
**__**Met tall brunette from ship.  
**__**Get here as soon as you can. **_

She sent the message off and went outside to clear her head and try to think.

"G'Day Miss Holt." Came the cackling voice she knew and hated worse than fingernails on a blackboard.

She turned to see the sickly smiling mug of one Norman Keyes.

"I could have you arrested and deported back to the states for murder." He laughed again. "Mine."

"They might be hard to prove." She smirked at him. "Since you're actually not dead."

"Details … minor details … you have been a very hard woman to track down." He stated. "How is married life treating you so far?" He scanned her up and down. "Not sure blonde is your color." He looked around. "And where is that lying loser husband of yours?"

Laura didn't say anything.

"Not to worry … he will be along … can't let a catch like you out of his sights for long." He cackled again. "You will be the death of that man … I hope you realize that."

Laura did realize that.

* * *

By late evening Steele was beginning to worry. He went to the captain with his findings about Savannah and wanted to check on Laura. The captain summoned her to his office but the head housekeeper showed up instead. When questioned, the head housekeeper reported that Jaime had gotten off the ship in Grisbourne and had not returned. She claimed that Jaime had quit citing something about an ex-husband and kids back home.

Steele immediately challenged the story and nearly took the woman's head off. The captain had to reign him back in.

"Ms London." The captain said evenly. "We know that Ms. MacGillicudy would not have gotten off the ship of her own accord. So would you like to try again?"

"The truth this time." Steele added.

It took some prompting, but the woman finally broke down and told all that she knew – which was enough to incriminate herself and the other crewmembers involved in stealing and kidnapping. Steele was less than impressed, but if she truly was just left in Grisbourne, then she would be waiting for him there – no harm done.

The communications officer knocked and entered. "This just came in for you." He handed the captain a note.

The captain read it over. "I don't know why, Mr. Viola … but I think this is for you."

**_Steele …  
Looks like your blonde bride missed the boat …  
_**_**Turn yourself in, and you can go down together …  
****You don't … and she takes the wrap for both of you.**_

The note was unsigned but the communications office said that it had come in from the Harbor Master at Grisbourne. His eyes flared red -he had an idea who it was from. "How do I get off this boat?"

"You can't … we are at sea for two days."

"Unacceptable." He would find a way, if he had to swim to shore.

When he arrived back at his cabin, Sally was waiting for him. "I never wanted anything to happen to her."

"A little late for that." He snapped at her.

She handed him a folded note. "This came in for you … before the other one."

Steele read it quickly.

_**Discovered Keyes.  
**__**Grisbourne Harbor – gray or silver sedan.  
**__**Met tall brunette from ship.  
**__**Get here as soon as you can.**_

He reread the other one. "Damn you Keyes." He said aloud. He looked over at Sally. "I am going to need your help."

She looked nervous and wondered what she could do.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**The Real Steeles – Part 3**

Laura stepped out of the jetway into the chill of the LAX terminal. She expected it to be hot; the captain announced when they landed that the local temperature was 98 degrees and humid … unseasonably humid for Los Angeles in the summer. She waited patiently as the New Zealand officer transferred custody to the FBI – it occurred to Laura that the FBI involvement was out of the ordinary, but she didn't question it. The men joked about the weather, prisoner escort detail in general and the woman arguing with the gate attendant about being kicked out of First Class (blonde, buxom and leggy). Both made comments about giving her a place to sit. Laura was unaffected; she wasn't even her standard annoyed at such male displays of imagined prowess. FBI asked if New Zealand was going to make a vacation out of the trip; see Disneyland or Hollywood. New Zealand said that it was a turn around; flight back was in two hours. They shook hands and New Zealand left to find the men's room and food that was edible. There was no exchange between Laura and her escort of the past 15 hours though he talked enough to keep her awake for the entire flight. She was reread her rights; verbally acknowledged that she understood them all and chose to remain silent. The agent escorted her away.

Laura's mother, sister, brother-in-law and Mildred Krebs all witnessed the exchange through the security glass, but none were allowed close enough to speak to her. She did not notice them; she never took her eyes off the spot on the floor two feet in front of her.

"She looks bad," said her sister. "Don't you think she looks bad?"

"I didn't recognize her," replied her brother in-law.

"Could just be jetlag."

"Blonde hair?" mother exclaimed and then prattled on about how blonde was not a good look for her, and the cut did nothing for her features, that she did have a very healthy tan but the dark circles under her eyes made her look so much older. Clearly Abigail was very upset and it had nothing to do with the color of Laura's hair.

Mildred watched in silence. Her typical reaction would have been to comfort Laura's family, but she barely gave them a thought. Laura was the only person on her mind. Mildred had never seen her look so completely defeated. She must have heard the same report that had stunned Mildred: _**Steele missing at sea. Presumed dead**_. All Mildred wanted to do was wrap Laura up in a tight embrace and keep her safe or shout to the heavens that there must be a mistake; vow to get her out and find him. She was helpless on both counts.

They followed Laura to jail and waited as she was processed. Eventually Mildred was told that she would not be able to see her since she was not family but in the end it didn't make any difference. Laura refused to see either her mother or her sister.

The lawyer wasn't set to come until the following day. Mildred retained Sheldon Levine as soon as her bosses had left town and the news that Keyes was dead. Thus far there was little he could do to help either of them, but now that Laura was back in the states, he had a slightly more flexibility. He was grateful that she had turned herself in (it would go a long way to help her case). Would have been better if she had brought Steele back with her, but that – evidently – was no longer an option.

Laura spent the night in jail thinking about the past 72 hours. It has been at least that long since the last time she had spoken to him. She couldn't remember his exact words or hers but she remembered that he had called her 'Mrs. Steele.'

Mrs. Steele.

Mrs. Remington Steele.

How odd to be called Mrs. Steele.

She had invented Remington Steele years before … a typewriter and a football team. She created him out of thin air. Remington Steele was a façade, a mask, a beard she needed to get the job done, to be taken seriously, to be afforded the luxury of working for herself and paying the bills. As much as she hated the chauvinist attitude of the society, she needed a man to make her legit – or at least the appearance of a man, but it didn't need to be a real man. A real man would control her, patronize her, devalue her contribution; be the brawn and the brains - Spade to her Effie. No, she would never tolerate that. Laura was smart, strong, independent and capable. She didn't need a man in her life professionally. Nor did she need one personally. In Laura's experience men – in the office or in the bedroom - were more trouble than they were worth. Thus her creation: Remington Steele; the unseen head of the agency, the boss, the talent, the man's man, who worked best in an advisory capacity. She could allow this mythic man to take the credit as long as she knew the truth.

Then HE showed up; the man with no name. In some twisted version of Pygmalion, her invention came to life and she married her creation. What did that make her in the eyes of the world now? Mrs. Remington Steele, the associate who married the boss, the operative who slept her way to the top, his wife, his little woman, his better half … his widow. Maybe it was all a dream; maybe none of it had ever happened. Maybe it would still be all right since she knew the truth. She didn't marry the myth, she married the man; the man with no name and she loved him.

She looked down at her hand where her simple gold band used to be (the one Mildred picked up in Vegas what seemed like a life time ago), nothing there but a tan line that would surely fade away before the memories. Uncontrollable tears filled her eyes and dripped down her face, but she refused to sob; she refused to let herself accept the facts as they were reported. She wouldn't believe that he was dead. What she was told was that he had tried to leave the ship in a lifeboat in some very stormy seas. They found the lifeboat crashed upon the rocks with no sign of a survivor. With the undertows they didn't expect to recover the body.

The Body. His Body. She started to dwell on how well she had gotten to know his body over the past several weeks. She knew if he were troubled by the way he curled into her at night, or if he was happy by the way he laced his fingers through hers, or if he was feeling amorous by the curve of his shoulders. Or how his muscles would tense like a cat's when he took on a role, or completely relax as they lay together in the mornings trying to hold off the dawn. He was so alive and she was more alive when she was with him.

She shook the memories away. She was in no place (literally or figuratively) to allow herself to think the worst and mourn the loss; nor was she in a position to do anything to disprove the reports. She forced herself to believe that they were false. She knew he could be reckless at times, but he was not careless. If he had gotten her message about Keyes there would have been nothing to stop him from getting off the ship. But a lifeboat in high seas seemed too reckless for him. After all he wasn't James Bond.

She thought back to her encounter with Keyes. He had told her about the message he had sent to the ship:

Steele … looks like your bride missed the boat … turn yourself in, and you can go down together … you don't … and she takes the wrap for both of you.

She had hoped that he had gotten hers as well. At least then he would know with whom he was dealing. Keyes had taunted her about being a fool. Steele or whoever he really was would fade back into the woodwork leaving her to swing in the breeze alone. She was dumbfounded as he described in detail his plan to get Steele starting with the diamond heist from months ago and up to the set up for his murder. He thanked her for getting Steele out of town; it made the whole plan work like a charm (no alibi to dispute). Laura knew there was a huge bit that Keyes was leaving out. He couldn't possibly have such a vendetta against Steele without something in it for him. She was helpless when his companion made the call to the New Zealand authorities claiming that she was Laura and wanted to turn her self in. She saw him drive away cackling as the lights and sirens approached. She had protested her innocence claiming that Keyes was not dead, had given a description of the car and the companion and even the direction they had gone. Sadly the kid on duty that day was too young to question the facts that were outside the norm. Before she new it she was on her way to the airport in handcuffs and anything she said fell on death ears.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Norman Keyes made his way through the Sydney terminal; his beautiful companion by his side. She was tall, brunette and looked young enough to be his daughter. They were queuing up for the flight to Taipei, Taiwan.

A tall dark man stepped from behind the pillar and watched them disappear down the jet way. He went up to the counter to buy a ticket and handed the attendant his passport.

"Will your wife be traveling with you?" the perky little clerk asked.

"My wife?"

She held up the second passport.

He took it back from her. "No," he said taking a moment to look at the picture before tucking it back in his pocket. He looked back up at the clerk who was clearly confused. He needed to explain why he had her passport with him. "She will probably be looking for this," he flashed her a smile that put her mind at ease. "She would forget her head if it weren't attached. On her way to Los Angeles with the kids. Disneyland, you know."

"Yes sir." She handed him the ticket. "Final boarding in ten minutes, the flight to Los Angeles doesn't leave for another hour. Gate 59."

"Thank you, I will be back in time." He stuffed the ticket into his coat pocket.

"Enjoy your flight, Mr. Charles."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hey kiddo," came a familiar voice. "How are you doing?"

Laura looked up into her loyal friend and one time employee's face. Mildred Krebs stood there dressed in a guard's uniform.

Laura smiled weakly at her. "Hi."

"You don't look so good sweetie." She said pushing a bag through the bars. "It isn't much, but it is better than the garbage they are going to feed."

"How did you get in here?" Laura was still out of it mostly due to exhaustion.

"Learned from the best," she told her. "I am going to get you out of here."

"I shouldn't be here," Laura stated. "Keyes is not dead."

"We know, honey," Mildred confirmed. "They know all about how Keyes was trying to set you two up." The mention of the missing partner stopped Mildred from continuing her explanation. A panic washed over her face.

"He's not dead, Mildred," Laura stated firmly referring to Steele this time. "Tell me what you know about Keyes."

Her adamant statement about the boss silenced Mildred.

"Mildred!" Laura prompted.

"There was insurance that was supposed to be paid to the niece but she is no more his niece than I am," Mildred said. "They aren't paying and the niece has disappeared."

"There has to be something else," she suggested. "Keyes is too smart to leave that obvious a trail and one that would be too easily disputed."

Mildred shrugged. "Well if they know, they're not telling me … but it was clear to me that Keyes had been the subject of an investigation for a long time."

"What about the woman on the boat, the one that met him in Grisbourne," Laura asked. She had to have been following us … maybe she is the niece."

"I don't know about any woman," Mildred said. "But tell me what you know and I will find out."

Laura proceeded to give her the blow by blow of the past week, since the discovery that Keyes was reported dead. Told her all about Morgan Farnsworth and her cohort, Lester Dunn (one of the three names on his passports). It was then that Mildred looked like she knew something.

"Lester Dunn used to be an informant for the INS; it was years ago," she explained.

"How do you know?"

"Because I heard them discussing him and a tip he had given them." She tired to think back to the entire conversation. "All I remember was something about being able to pick something up in Fiji."

"Yeah … us." Laura was again reminded that it was her mistake that brought Morgan Farnsworth into their lives and clearly set the authorities and Keyes back on their trail.

"So how did you get on to a cruise ship in New Zealand?" Mildred asked.

"That Mr. Steele will have to tell you," she stated as if he would walk through the door at any moment with usual smile and some wild story by way of explanation. "But you need to get there … right now … next plane out."

"Excuse me?" Mildred wasn't sure she heard her correctly.

"I can't go… you need to … talk to the captain, find out what happened to Mr. Steele … what really happened …he didn't get off the ship the way they said he did … I don't believe it … he would have left something there for me … or sent something … I don't know which or where … but the ship … the Volendam will be pulling in at … I'm not sure … could be Half Moon Bay by time you get there … but you will find it …"

"Honey … Miss Holt … Laura," Mildred finally got her attention.

"Mildred I need you to do this," she explained. "You know I wouldn't ask –"

Mildred cut her off. "Honey, you don't have to ask … but what about you?"

"I'll be fine," she stated a little less than convincingly.

"Miss Holt," Mildred whined.

"Mildred … please … call me Laura … you have done so much." She got teary eyed. "We have been through so much … and it isn't over … I mean, shouldn't presume … I haven't even asked … are you OK?"

"It has been a rough couple of months," she owned with very little affect. "But I love you guys and I told you that I would cover for you."

"I'm sorry Mildred," Laura said. "We both are."

"There is so much for us to talk about," the older woman stated. "So many things you need to know."

Just listening to Mildred calmed Laura down. She didn't feel so out of control knowing that Mildred was taking care of things back home. "Tell me," she said gently. "Tell me everything."

Mildred didn't give every sordid detail, but she hit more than the highlights including how she was able to maintain the rent and phones on the office and Laura's loft, but she had to let Mr. Steele's apartment go. She had run through her savings keeping those bills paid and the retainer on the lawyer. Frances had offered to help but they were in a financial bind and would have to take a second on the house; Mildred told her not to take that step yet. Abigail knew nothing and that was on purpose. Mildred hadn't looked for a job, but was doing temp work to keep her bills paid – and theirs. She had been able to finish her course work to become an operative and was hoping to find some other agency to hire her so she could finish her fieldwork. So far no one was taking her up on her offer. She had purposely not tried to find them, but had stayed close to the detective that was working the Keyes case. She was the one who first suspected that it was all a ruse. When the FBI was brought in, Mildred was all but shut out of the investigation. The only door that was left open was that she had made a friend of the LAPD detective and he hated the FBI and insurance investigators. Mildred was his sounding board.

"So you see, Miss Holt," Mildred paused. "Laura … I am not sure I can just pick up and go to New Zealand … or wherever this lead takes me … I just don't think I can afford it."

"Miss Holt," came a booming voice from the doorway. "Or is it Mrs. Steele … either way … come with me."

Laura looked up at a man who could only have played the entire offensive line on his college football team, but was now flashing a badge that said 'FBI.'

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nick Charles, traveling alone with no baggage, exited the plane last; but he was keenly aware of two other passengers who had been traveling first class. Charles followed the object of his attention through the terminal and waited as they picked up their baggage. A limo driver met them and escorted them to a waiting car. That should have been where he lost them, but with some quick talking and a flash of American dollars, a taxi driver was easily able to follow them to the Caesar Park Hotel. Charles secured a room across the hall but not before making a side trip to the Bank of Taiwan. He needed to send a wire, and he hoped that the message would get through. The room service tray that was ordered let Charles know that Keyes and his companion were in for the night – or at the very least until the Jet Lag was over. Charles paid a bell me to alert him if either of them left the room and settled him self down for 40 winks.

Restful sleep eluded him. His mind was reeling. In the dead of night he started awake calling her name.

"Damn it, man," he said to the dark. "You need to get a hold of yourself."

His plan was working. He was reported dead – or at least lost at sea. No one looks over his shoulder – or across the hall – for a dead man. But how could he let her know … let her know for a fact, that it was only a sham? The message he sent from the bank the day before should get through, and she should understand it, hell she should know how to track it and for all he knew, she was already on her way. But it would have been so much easier if he could have just spoken to her. It would have put his mind to rest if he could have explained.

He wondered how much trust they had gained in the past eight weeks and how much would be lost by the most recent turn of events. He wondered if there was a way back to what they had before or any kind of future.

He wasn't the marrying kind. He was – to be sure – a one-woman man, but marriage and a lifetime commitment was something he never thought he would make. Technically speaking they had really only taken their vows to keep him in the country – technically; but he knew better than to play the 'technicality' card. That first night in his apartment was just that - a first night. It had to happen sooner or later and God knows they had been dancing around it for years. It was great, it was intimate and it turned a corner for them – but it was still far less than a lifetime understood commitment. The second time on that freighter with 35+ pirates around them at all times, was only lust born of close quarters and the excitement of the situation. It was hot and a side to Laura that hadn't been alluded to since the first year they met. It wasn't until they were at the villa, alone and able to really appreciate all that had happened that the relationship turned. At least it was that way for him. He had never said the words 'I love you,' nor had she. He never asked her if she would marry him for real, but it was implied daily. He could not be sure when it happened, but in his mind and in all his actions they were a couple in ever sense of the word – until death parted them and fake deaths were not acceptable.

What made him uneasy as he waited in the dark for Keyes to make his next move was something she had said to him. Something about not thinking of him as her husband and only barely getting used to the idea that he was her lover. He knew Laura. If he had only risen to the rank of lover, then she would lose faith – faith in him, in them and most assuredly herself. There was a moment on the beach before they took off for Auckland that he thought he felt something different from her – something more, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment. He had to wait Keyes out to find out what the deal was. That was priority. His identity, their marriage (sham or real), her feeling for him and his for her would all have to wait until this 'case' was solved.

He laughed at himself. "I am beginning to sound like her."

A soft knock came on the door. "Mr. Charles?" said a young man. "He has called for his car."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Frances let Laura into her loft. It was close to sundown. Laura had been questioned and released and given almost no information about the situation with Keyes but since she had been released she presumed that she was off the hook. She still couldn't leave the country and the INS would surely be talking to her over the next couple days.

The apartment was musty and dank as if something had leaked and wasn't dried out properly. Boxes of his stuff filled the room and his movie posters were leaning against the couch. It took her breath away like a cold slap in the face.

"Why don't you stay with us tonight," Frances offered for the fiftieth time since she picked Laura up.

"No," she said again. "I'm Ok."

She played with the ring that was now back on her finger. It would be good to be home, home with his stuff. She could organize it, make room for it and put it away for when he came back. With that thought her eyes filled with tears. She didn't believe it. She didn't know if he were alive or not, but she was convinced that he would not be coming back. If he were alive, he had escaped and more power to him. If not … well then it didn't really matter.

Mildred bust in the open door clearly out of breath. "Miss Holt," she screeched. "Miss Holt … I don't understand." She pushed the statement from her bank account at Laura. It showed a wire transfer of 9,999.99 (just under the Fed's radar) into her account. "It came from a bank in Taipei. It was made yesterday and there was no name." Mildred had already done the research. "What does it mean?" Mildred asked.

Laura let a smile slowly creep across her face. "It means you need to change your tickets from New Zealand to Taiwan," she nearly burst out.


	4. Chapter 4

The Real Steeles

The Real Steeles – Part 4

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Laura woke to a pounding in her head. She had gotten nearly no sleep in spite of the fact that she was finally sleeping in her own bed. She couldn't get her mind to stop reeling.

fffffffff

The day before she had been questioned for nearly 8 hours by the hulk of an FBI agent known as Gideon Fell. He was rough, loud, mean and arrogant but there was sadness around his eyes and he didn't look like his heart was into the interrogation. His questions were all over the place. She wasn't sure if he was trying to trip her up of if he was just making things up as he went along. Eventually someone knocked on the door. But not before saying something that threw her for a loop.

"Take care, Mrs. Steele," he said mournfully. "People are rarely what they seem to be … but they can't hide who they really are. But you know that already."

With that Gideon Fell left never expecting to see Laura Hole … Steele … Laura Holt-Steele again.

The agent that took her from the airport sauntered in and announced that she was free to go, that her passport would not be returned to her and that she could not leave town.

"Let me remind you Mrs. Steele," he warned her. "That when I say that you should not leave town, I mean it; under any name or under any circumstances. The INS will be contacting you soon – probably tonight - and they have some more questions and probably a few charges to file against you."

"And the charges against me in the death of Norman Keyes?" she asked.

"There were never any charges filed, you were held for questioning alone."

"You extradited me for --."

"The INS extradited you for leaving the country illegally," he cut her off. "Something they don't take lightly. Our murder case trumped them; which you have to know pissed them off."

Laura said nothing. She did not have time or patience for the pissing contests over jurisdiction that occurred between government agencies.

"Anyway ... they have been notified – I actually expected them to be here to meet you."

"I have done nothing –" she started to say.

He cut her off again. "Leaving the country without your passport." He reminded her. "Helping an illegal escape from custody and leave the country. Owning and operating a detective agency in the states with an illegal alien." He shrugged. "That is far from nothing."

Laura didn't respond.

"Finally there is the issue of that quickie wedding … that Vegas marriage will hold up in court. The INS hates sham marriages to get a green card. Not sure what you got out of it … at the very least it will be five years behind bars and some sort of financial fine. Yes sirree … they have a lot to talk to you about."

She again didn't respond.

"If I were in the INS's shoes, I would have a few questions about the business papers that incorporated Remington Steele Investigations." His Cheshire cat smile crept across his face. "I am not expert … but it seems that Steele's signature changed over the years … looked very much like yours in the early on … very feminine … but maybe your husband has a very feminine touch … after a seven week honeymoon, you should know." He winked at her. "Of course I don't understand why there were no pictures of Remington Steele before … oh say … 1982, but since then you can't seem to pick up a paper or a tabloid without his face in there somewhere." He dropped the paper he had been carrying over his arm on the table. "Very photogenic … you too … I like you better as a brunette."

Laura's eyes flashed. She felt the heat crawling up the back of her spine. She wanted to rip into the guy, but she really didn't have a leg to stand on. Laura wondered how much he really knew, how much he suspected. All that really mattered was how much he could prove and whether or not he would push it.

He opened the door for her. "You can go."

She turned back to ask his name but he closed the door on her. She was directed to the processing area where Frances was waiting for her. And then home to her loft, his stuff, Mildred's discovery and a very restless night. She missed him. She missed his touch; his smile and the way he would make insurmountable problems seem like mere annoyances. She missed the fact that he wasn't there to defend himself if only to her.

fffffff

The pounding continued until Laura finally realized that it wasn't only in her head. She stumbled to the door and yelled through it. "What!"

"Laura Holt … we need to talk," came a friendly male voice that she didn't recognize.

She pulled the door open and beyond stood a curly headed handsome man, with a bright smile wearing a fedora, Khakis, a leather jacket with a worn leather bag over his shoulder. All he was missing from his Indian Jones ensemble was the whip. He had two cups of coffee in his hands. He walked in without waiting for her permission.

"Tony Roselli … INS," he announced pushing one of the cups at her. "But let's get to that later … first, breakfast … you look like you could use a shower." He looked around, "and this place could use a good airing out … and maybe a trip to the dump to get rid of all this junk." He kicked at one of Steele's boxes and grinned back at her. "Boy … blonde is really not a good look for you."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Steele stepped out into the dark – it wasn't light yet - and got into the taxi that was waiting.

"Follow that car," said the driver in a cheery broken English accent.

"Please," Steele nodded.

The trip was short: across town and into a small bank. The companion (Steele had yet to get her name) waited in the car as Keyes entered through a side door. He came out some minutes later carrying a briefcase with that self-satisfied grin on his face. He climbed back into the car and kissed her soundly and they sped off.

About a half an hour later they drove into the deserted Keelung Harbor. Keyes took the briefcase and met an Asian man who had emerged from another car. They exchanged words and it was clear to Steele that there was a huge misunderstanding or a communication problem. The man demanded the briefcase and Keyes refused – that much was clear. By that time Keyes' companion was out of the car and before Steele knew what was happening, she shot Keyes in the back.

The taxi driver gasped and was quickly silenced.

Keyes fell to his knees looking back at her. She shot him twice again in the chest. The woman and the man glanced quickly around to see if they were being watched. Luckily the taxi with Steele was unnoticed. The man barked some orders at other men who were in the car. Keyes's body was stuffed into the truck of the car he was driving. One of the men drove off presumably to dispose of both the car and the body. The other man drove off in the other direction. The woman, the original man now holding the briefcase climbed aboard a freighter and disappeared below decks.

Steele leaned back. "What have I gotten myself into?" was what passed through his mind.

The taxi driver started the engine waiting for Steele to give him an order. When nothing came he prompted him.

He had nothing to go on. He didn't know who she was, who that man was or what was in the briefcase. All he knew was the man that he had supposedly murdered was just murdered in front of him and that he couldn't call the authorities – he had nothing to tell them. Surely Keyes would be found but would he be identified? And if he wasn't identified, how were he and Laura going to get off the hook?

"Mr. Charles?" the driver asked.

"Back to the hotel." He said slowly. He took a mental note of the name of the freighter. It clearly wasn't preparing to leave in the next hour or so; he had a bit of time.

He knew Laura would want to follow that case, but he felt that was too risky. He knew Keyes would agree with him if he could. He needed to find out more about the woman. He didn't know much about her except that she had been on the cruise ship, she had taken the plane from Sydney and that she had stayed at the hotel with Keyes. Somewhere there must be a clue about her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Her name is Lily Bell," said Tony Roselli as he took back the picture from Laura.

"Who is she?" Laura asked.

"Well," Tony smiled. "There has been some discussion about that … she is most certainly not Norman Keyes' niece."

"That doesn't answer my question," Laura scolded.

"Wouldn't you rather do this over a nice plate of eggs benedict, some fresh strawberries … maybe a mimosa or two?" He licked his lips. "I know this great little place --."

"Answer my question," Laura ignored his adolescent flirting.

"Before I tell you about Lily Bell," he countered. "Why don't you tell me about Remington Steele?"

Laura got immediately defensive. "I thought the INS knew all there was to know."

"I don't know why you married him," he stated. "Or at least pretended to marry on the same day that you had annulment papers drawn up." He raised his eyebrows. "Doesn't sound to me like you were expecting to see your golden wedding anniversary."

Laura fought for something to say. She wanted to demand to know how so many people knew so much about her private life. What is posted on a bulletin board somewhere? Was it on TV for all the world to see?

"You are thinking that your relationship with your supposed husband is none of my business," Roselli offered. "But I am here to remind you, that is it very much the business of the INS if your marriage was one of convenience to get around a little thing like the US Government."

"That is not what I was thinking," she defended.

"I find it very interesting that you don't think your husband … well the man you call Remington Steele is dead."

"Excuse me!" She snapped.

"Best of my knowledge there has been no other report out of New Zealand except that he was lost at sea," he went on. "Yet you sit here and bristle at the suggestion that your marriage was less than legitimate as if you want to keep up to charade." He leaned back on the couch. "That to me means you think he is alive. More than think it; you have some evidence."

"I don't know what you are talking about." Laura defended.

"Where did Mildred take off to in such a hurry this morning?" he asked. "You don't have to tell me, I can find out by making one phone call."

Laura looked away.

"You don't have any idea who you are dealing with, do you?" He laughed. "Or what? Or exactly how high the stakes really are?"

"I don't --."

"You stepped into something," he cut her off. "It wasn't your fault … you didn't even know that you were in it." He went on. "I am sure you were innocent in this fiasco, but I wouldn't bet the farm on Steele."

"Who are you?" she demanded. "And what in the hell are you talking about?"

"How much do you know about your supposed husband?" Roselli asked. "Did you know that he wasn't the thief he you thought he was?" He laughed again. "I mean, yes he is a thief, but not of jewels or paintings … of state secrets."

"Are you implying that he is a spy?" She was unconvinced.

"We don't like the word 'spy'," he shrugged. "It has such a fifties ring to it. We like 'agent'."

"We?" Laura quickly picked up on his pronoun usage. "So you are telling me that you're a spy – sorry, AGENT and that the INS is what … your day job?"

He shrugged. "Some thing like that."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A knock came on Steele's hotel room door less then a minute after he returned.

"Housekeeping," came a familiar voice.

"No, thank you," he responded but stepped closer to the door.

"More towels," came the same voice.

Steele opened the door and Mildred Krebs stood just beyond with an armload of towels. "Mildred?"

"Good to see you, boss." Her grin was from ear to ear.

He looked both ways down the hallway before looking back at her. "How did you …?"

"It wasn't easy … but I caught a break," she grinned. "This was the first hotel I came to and I saw you getting out of the cab."

He pulled her into the room and gave her a quick hug. "How's Laura?" he asked.

"Not great … but holding up," she said honestly. "She is probably with INS right now."

"Oh Laura." He was truly sorry that he couldn't be there to help her.

"She is very worried about you."

"I'm a little worried about all of us," he countered.

At that moment the elevator dinged. Steele glanced out enough to see the woman he had been following get off the elevator. She didn't notice him. Steele quickly and quietly closed the door but kept his ear to it until he heard her go into the room. He had hoped that she would not be back so soon. He needed to get into the room and find what he could find. He looked back at Mildred who was aware enough to stay silent.

"Keyes is dead," he stated.

"No, he's not." She was grateful to be the one to tell him.

"He is," he countered.

"No, it was all a scam to get you," she told him.

"Not any more," he informed her. "He was killed this morning right in front of my eyes … shot by the woman that is staying in the room across the hall."

"The woman from the cruise ship?" she asked. "The one that turned Miss Holt in?"

"Can't speak to either of those," he told her. "But she was with Keyes in Australia and she was the one who shot him in the back this morning … literally."

"Tall … brunette … with legs that go on for days?" Mildred bristled.

"That's her."

"She was one of the assignments that Miss Holt gave me," Mildred winced. "Sorry … Mrs. Steele."

He nearly laughed at her. "Mildred please … after all this time … after all you have done for us … knowing what you know …"

She shrugged, "She did suggest I call her Laura."

"I'm sure it was more than a suggestion," he owned.

"What do I call you?" She smiled playfully at him.

"Oh God," he rolled his eyes. "Not you too."

"I am just teasing, boss," she told him. "Laura told me about the trip to Ireland."

He leaned against the chair wondering if that was just a pipe dream or if it would ever come to fruition and if it would net the results they had been hoping for.

"You'll make it," she told him. "You both will … if that is what you really want."

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"Is it?" she asked. "Is it what you want?"

"In more ways than you know, my girl," he kissed her cheek. "It's great seeing you," he said honestly. "But for right now … we need to get her out of that room … and me into it."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Laura emerged from the salon and quickly donned her sunglasses. Her hair was back to its original color; maybe a little lighter with a couple of highlights for good measure, but essentially as it was before. The cut would take a little while longer to grow back but it wasn't impossible. It really wasn't the first item on her agenda; she was just trying to get away from her new shadow, Tony Roselli.

"Much better," Tony said to her as he raced to keep pace with her.

"Mr. Roselli," Laura stated with her confidence back. "You want something. You need something from me or else you wouldn't be following me around."

"Oh?" he asked.

"You would have made good on your threats and put me in jail," she reasoned. "As for the stories – rather the complete fabrications that you are spinning about Mr. St – my husband … let me just say, that I will not fall for it."

"No?"

"A little secret about women," she whispered to him. "We like the truth … even if we don't want to hear it."

"The truth is relatively simple," he stated. "We think Steele can lead us to Keyes and to Keyes' connections and more importantly to recover something that Keyes has in his possession."

"Something?" she asked.

"Remember that little diamond heist that happened a year ago … the one in the office below yours?" He stopped walking and kept his voice down.

Laura turned and nodded. She could hardly have forgotten that episode in her life. She remembered that it shook her confidence in him and in them as a couple down to her very soul, yet he was able to say and do just the right thing to restore her faith.

"Well, Keyes got more than he bargained for." Roselli again deflected the truth.

She started walking again.

"Something else was stolen from that safe," he called after her. "More than diamonds … something that couldn't be insured … something that men … a lot of men … probably a few women and maybe a country or two would kill for." He explained. "In fact … not sure if you knew this … but the owners of that jewelry exchange were killed in a very suspicious car accident."

"You are back to the cloak and dagger drama," she scolded. "When you want to get serious…"

"We're not sure what was taken," he told her. "We have an idea … and we know that there are some people who would pay a lot of money for it."

"Are you telling me that Keyes was a traitor?" she asked.

"Wouldn't be the first time a man turned his back on his country for money," he reminded her. "Or a beautiful woman."

"Lily Bell," she commented.

"Lily Bell," he confirmed. "For one." He was alluding to something, but Laura was not willing to try to take the inference.

"And now you think my husband is involved?" She didn't like calling him as 'her husband' mainly because of Roselli's attitude about it but more so for the fact that she had no good name to call the man she had been living with as a couple for two months.

"You tell me?" he tossed back at her. "Would Steele go after him if he had the chance knowing no more than Keyes set him up for a murder he didn't commit and turned you in?"

She nodded and truly believed that he would.

"How about if he were double crossed?" Tony offered. "Would Steele track him down?"

Laura nodded but her heart was not into it. Not because she didn't believe it, but because she was not ready to believe that Steele and Keyes were connected in some other way. However it did raise a question in her mind about why Keyes had such a vendetta against him. Maybe it was all just a ploy, a ruse – an elaborate plot to dupe her and anyone else who was interested.

"Or would Steele not go after him and just disappear from you life?"

"No," she stated with an absolute certainty that she wished she felt in her core.

"That's what I'm banking on," he confirmed. "Let's hope that Mildred finds him first, cause he could get himself killed and then he would be no good to either of us."

Roselli was all over the place and Laura had had enough. "If he is who you say he is … an agent … you don't think he can take care of himself?" she pushed back at him. "And if he is who I say he is … you would use him like this and put his life in danger? How do you sleep at night?"

"If he is who I HOPE he is … I would rather have him on my side," he said. "If he is who you HOPE he is he could quite possibly be dead already." He paused letting the gravity of the situation sink in. "However if he is what we both HOPE he is not … then his life is in his own hands."

She pushed him away from her. "Who are you … and what do you really want?"

Tony came clean. "I need Steele to take from Keyes when he stole from us."

"Who is us?"

"The good guys."

Laura scoffed. "Debatable at best." She forced her self to keep thinking and not allowing her emotions to run away with her. "This all hangs on a very silly premise. The Keyes still has what you are looking for. It has been over a year since the break in … his death was reported nearly two months ago. If Keyes were using this as his retirement plan, why wait so long to get rid of it?" She asked.

"Putting it out to bid, I expect," Tony surmised.

"What makes you think that Keyes still has it?"

Tony cocked his head. "Cause if he doesn't … then God help us all."

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"How am I supposed to know what he did with it?" Lily Bell barked into the phone. The accent was British … a Londoner.

Steele held his breath in the closet. She had come back too soon.

"Yes, I have been back to the bank," she stated. "No, I am not sure he had it with him when we left Los Angeles, he could have left it there, he could have mailed it out of the country … he could have given it to his Aunt Daisy in Des Moines." She exhaled. "Hey, I came into this about 9 months too late and we never got that close." She was silent listening to the voice on the other end rip into her. "My mission was clear … I stuck with him, but it's not like the man was trusting … NO … there was no pillow talk."

Steele looked down to the papers he had in his hand. They were notes that Keyes had written and folded underneath a flap in his suitcase. It didn't make much sense to him, but then again he only had two minutes to look at it before he heard Mildred alert him from the hall.

"I am getting on a plane … Back to LA? I don't think so … London … that is not really my concern now is it? … I think you had better get your ducks in a row before the Queen finds out and cuts off your head." She slammed down the phone.

She was clearly upset, as upset as if she had her own worries about the Queen. Of course it really wasn't the Queen that was at issue … it was her handler. He had given her explicit instructions, and they did NOT include the killing of Keyes. There would be some hell to pay for that … if she ever did make it back to London.

She disappeared into the bathroom. Steele heard the water in the tub start to run. She came back out undressing. She pulled a computer disc out of her bra and smiled. She tucked it into the bible by the bed. She pulled a split of champagne from the mini bar and pulled the cork.

"Here's to you NORMY." She raised the bottle quickly and then drank. She could no longer hold back her laugh. Taking another split from the minibar, she went into the bathroom to take a well deserved soak and wash off that day.

When it was safe, Steele stole from the closet, retrieved the disc from the Bible and slipped from the room.

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Laura ran up the stairs at her loft and was hoping that Roselli would just let her be; she needed to think. He of course didn't. He followed her up and into her apartment. "You don't trust me," he said as if it were a revelation. "But we don't have time to build a relationship. Here." He handed her an envelope.

She took it slowly and opened it. It contained hers and Steele's passports as well as all the documents for the business and even an application for a green card predating the opening of the agency. It was not signed; clearly it was a carrot.

"Why do you need him?"

"Cause he is involved … unwittingly you say … but I can't rule out the other possibilities," he told her. "You are a detective Laura … don't you follow every lead until you get the answers?"

She could not deny that. "You don't really think he is an agent for another country."

"Probably not," he owned.

"And you really don't think that Keyes and he are involved in some traitorous act?"

"I can't rule it out." Roselli sat down. "However … there is one thing that I can't get around … why he stayed here for so long," he admitted.

Laura was hanging on to that little factoid herself.

"For the past four years he rarely left the country and when he did, you were with him," he went on. "Also he kept such a high profile – either he was hiding in plain sight, or …"

"Or you are wrong about him."

"Something is off about him." He admitted. "It doesn't make sense."

It didn't to Laura either. There was only one good explanation and that was why she married him – but she still didn't trust it.

"And what really doesn't make sense is how he got mixed up in this mess. It couldn't have been coincidence," he stated. "It couldn't have been coincidence that you were in Fiji and Keyes was in Australia. It couldn't have been coincidence that Lily Bell got on the same cruise ship you two were on after leaving Lester Dunn and Morgan Farnsworth."

"It sounds implausible," she agreed.

"How much was Steele directing your destinations?" Tony planted another seed.

"I can't really say." She flashed the time he told her about the cruise ship. That was totally out of the blue … as was the ship out of LA, the freighter, the villa on Fiji – yet all seemed relatively simple to procure. How could he have pulled that off so fast? How was it that Keyes and Lily Bell were following them? How was it that she was caught and not he? Was that the plan all along? Were Keyes and Steele actually working together, and they needed to get Laura back to the states and out of their way? If that were true, why wire the money to Mildred to signal his whereabouts? Why not just disappear? Backing up a little further, if he and Keyes were working together – why marry her? Why go through all that? It was her idea, not his. Maybe he was just biding his time. Something clicked in Laura; something she had hoped was over. Clearly it was always there just under the surface, but it was back – full force. She had doubt. She doubted his intentions.

"Do you know where he is?" Tony asked pointedly.

"I am expecting Mildred to check in …" she checked her watch. "In about an hour."

"Do you really think she could have found him?"

"Yes," Laura said confidently. Mildred had to have found him because Laura needed to ask him some very pointed questions.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Steele let himself into his hotel room. He was exhausted from the flight and his leg work had netted him less than nothing.

"Hi," she said.

Laura was standing by the window. The sunlight filtering through the curtains framed her in such a way as to make her glow.

"Hi," he dropped the key on the bed. "When did you get here?"

"Not long," she stepped toward him.

He stepped toward her. "Are you alright?" he asked.

She winced at the question and the response that first went through her head. "Ok," she lied. "You?" She took another step toward him.

"Been better … been a lot better." He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. "Missed you," he breathed into her hair and relaxed into the embrace.

There it was. That was all she needed to know. All her questions were answered. "Me too," she whispered back worried that her voice would crack if she said more.

"We haven't met," came Tony Roselli's voice from behind the reunited couple.

Steele didn't let go, but turned to see the man standing in his room. "Laura?" he asked.

"We need to talk," she answered but she didn't make a move to pull herself out of his embrace.


	5. Chapter 5

The Real Steeles – Part 5

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Laura pushed Tony Roselli out of the room. Roselli's protests did not stop, which included banging on the door and making a general scene. "That requires some explanation," she stated.

"I'd say it does," he agreed.

"Do you want to start?" she asked.

He was only slightly amused by her offensive tactic. "Ladies first, I always say."

She considered quickly and then launched in. "Tony has doubts --."

"_**Tony**_, is it?" he questioned her familiarity with the stranger. "And you?"

"Me?" she asked back.

"Do you have doubts?" He had expected that they wouldn't get to this part of the conversation for some minutes.

"I did," she said honestly. "But I don't now."

"Pretty quick turn around," he noted though not convinced. "To what do you attribute that?"

She stepped close to him wrapping her arms around his waist. "You." She kissed him lightly.

"Good for me." He did not kiss her back but did put his arms around her, clearly he was expecting to be more verbally convinced.

"Good for me," she corrected.

The continued pounding on the door reminded them that they were not alone.

"Let me handle this." She pulled herself from him and threw the door open. "Do you want our help or not?" she blasted the interloper who was clearly stunned by the intensity of her ire. "Then let me explain the situation to _**my husband**_." She stressed the words 'my husband' to emphasize to Tony and Steele where her loyalty lay.

"I am sure YOUR HUSBAND has more information than either of us do." He looked past her to Steele who was not enjoying the interaction as much as he should have.

"You agreed to play it my way," she reminded him.

"You didn't leave me much choice," he reminded her.

"No I didn't." She put her hand on her hip. "So?"

He stepped back yielding to her position. "I'm not leaving this hallway," Roselli warned her.

"And we are not leaving this room, so give it a rest." She slammed the door and turned back to Steele.

"You two not the best of friends," he stated.

"He has been with me for over 48 hours … I can't shake him … not a minutes peace … like gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe," she explained but doing very little to gain Steele's sympathy. "If we didn't need him," she went on. "I would have drop kicked him into next week."

"Instead you got on a plane to London with him," Steele observed.

"Yeah, well … like I said we need him."

"Why?" he asked.

"Tony can … Roselli will … wait," She stopped herself. "Let me start from when we parted."

Steele leaned against the wall and nodded for her to proceed. He had a few things to tell her too, but he could wait.

Laura explained all starting with first seeing Keyes on the docks, being knocked out by the crewmates on the ship and left at Grisbourne harbor, sending the wire, Keyes finding her, being turned in by the companion and her interrogation by the FBI. She told him about Mildred and all that she had done for them. She told him how Roselli had pushed his way into the situation. Then steeling up her courage, she mater-of-factly told him of all of Roselli's assumptions about Steele's real reason for his presence in the USA and her life (thief turned spy vs. thief in cahoots with Keyes) and the doubts he had about the validity of their marriage. She said all she could about Keyes, the stolen item from the diamond heist and Roselli's plan to use them to get it back and finally his promise to give them the paperwork they needed so they could go home. Of course during all of that was Steele's trip to Taiwan, Mildred joining him and the subsequent trip to London. "Tony is hoping that you have been following Lily Bell." She finished giving him the opportunity to continue with his side of the story.

Steele listened and held all his questions even though she paused often to check in with him. He waited another moment after she was done before speaking. "That couldn't have been easy for you to hear," he commented.

"Which part?" she pretended like she was unphased by Roselli's assumptions.

He wasn't about to pull any punches nor was he about to let the conversation be left open for misinterpretation – Cold Steele Honesty is how their marriage had started and there was no reason to change that credo. "That I might be a spy."

"Agent," she corrected. "Apparently the spies of today don't like that word."

"Or that I might disappear from your life."

She pretended like that idea hadn't occurred to her nor had the accusation of it affected her.

He went on unchecked. "Or that Keyes and I had actually planned this whole thing and I was just using you."

She looked down. "No, it wasn't easy to hear."

"Well at least I know which part you believed." He turned away.

"I didn't believe any of it," she challenged.

"No … of course not," he said with sarcasm thick in his voice. "No, we are the picture of newly wedded bliss."

"That is unfair," she cried.

"What is unfair is that you bring my accuser to my doorstep protesting your faith in me the whole way."

"I did." She said weakly.

"Seriously Laura, to what end? Am I supposed to deny his accusations, defend myself point by point? Are you holding a trial? … Or is he a chaperon? … Or maybe just a symbol of all that is wrong with us?" He was mad, not at her but she was the easy target.

"What is wrong with us," she repeated.

"You tell me," he challenged back.

"The only reason Tony … Mr. Roselli is here, is so that he can give us the papers we need to go home," she repeated vainly hardly believing her own words.

"So when I give him this …" he pulled the disc that he had found in Lily Bell's room out of his pocket. "He will just hand us our passports and any other documents he has forged for you and go away and we can just go back home and pretend like none of this … these past eight weeks never happened?"

"What is that?" she asked avoiding his very direct question.

"I have no idea." He tucked it back away. "Mildred tells me it's encrypted … whatever that means … but as I spy, I suppose I should know, so by telling you I don't know … I am clearly lying again."

"Stop it," she yelled. "Let's deal with one thing at a time."

"Laura, if we have any chance in hell you are going to have to stop doubting me," he stated clearly.

"I didn't," she defended. "Not really."

"Not really?" he asked. "Then what do you call it?"

"I … I …" she searched for a word. "I considered it. As any good detective would when given new information. I considered the validity of a report from a source …"

"Source?" he spoke over her. "Did you consider the source?

"…I tried to make it fit," she kept talking. "And when it didn't … I dismissed it."

He smiled and cocked his head. "You're going to need to be a better actress to pull that kind of line off."

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

"Trust," he said simply.

She sunk down on the bed. "Are we really back to that?"

"When did you think we weren't?"

Just then the door opened with a key and a tall red head came flouncing into the room talking a mile a minute, carrying bags from nearly every department store and boutique in London. "Douggie ... who is that man in the hallway?" she said before noticing Laura. "And who is this woman in our bed." She dropped her bags on the bureau and turned to Laura. "Mrs. Shannon Steele, Douggie's wife … and you are?"

Laura looked back at Steele who was clearly surprised, but she didn't know which surprise to think affected him most.

"Laura?" Tony followed this blaze of lightening into the room followed by two men who were clearly with Shannon.

"Douggie, you remember Mr. Smithers," she kept talking. "And his associate … I found them down stairs in the lobby waiting to see us." She sidled up next to him and hooker her arm around his. "We can't keep them waiting too much longer darling."

Steele pulled away from her. She was up to something, clearly, but he wondered how much trouble she was actually in. Smithers looked dangerous.

"And who is your friend?" she cooed at Roselli.

Steele relented. "Anthony Roselli … Shannon Wayne," he made cursory introductions. Laura headed for the door. "Laura!" he chased after her holding her back preventing her from leaving. "Gentlemen and Shannon, if you will excuse us."

Tony snorted. "Two wives, Steele?" he said sarcastically. "Bigamy is against the law here too, isn't it?"

"How about you all go down to the bar and have a pint … on me." He herded them out the door.

Laura started to go with the group but he held her back not noticing that Shannon hadn't left. The door closed and he turned to face her. "I haven't seen Shannon for at least 6 years, Laura," he defended.

"Then how does she know Remington Steele?" Laura asked in victory – hollow though it was since his picture has been in the paper too many times to count.

"My dear," Shannon jumped in as she stretched herself comfortably across the bed. "Our relationship goes profoundly deeper than names."

"Shannon!" Steele silenced her actually a little surprised that she hadn't gone with the rest.

Laura didn't believe that Steele would have spoken to that woman about their relationship or its issues, but the poignancy of her remark struck Laura like a slap in the face. It was and always had been about the name – his name and the name she gave him.

Steele didn't need Shannon's complications – and she was nothing but complications. "What are you doing here?" He asked rhetorically.

"I need your help, dear … as I told you last night," she purred.

Laura just shook her head and pulled open the door.

"Where are you going?" he followed her.

"I need some air," she snapped.

"Laura, you don't think …" His words trailed off hoping she wouldn't make him say them out loud.

"No, I don't," she confirmed. "But it's just one more time when your past can blow back into our lives and … and … and who knows where it will lead or how it will end." She stormed out of the room.

He thought about going after her, but thought that the first order of business was to get Shannon out of his room and then he and Laura could talk, or not talk, but at the very get back on track. He turned to his latest problem.

"Whatever it is, Shannon my girl," he started. "You will not do it posing as Mrs. Steele."

"Fine," she knelt on the bed. "The former Mrs. Steele … the first Mrs. Steele … I can be a great ex-wife." She reached out to him. "Think about a reconciliation, darling."

"Not even when pigs fly, Shannon," he pulled her to standing. "Find some other sap to bail you out of this one"

"Douggie," she whined. "After all we have been through together …"

"Out, Shannon," he ordered. "I have my own mess to deal with."

She moved toward the door. "Did you really marry that …" she searched for the right description.

"Careful, my dear," he warned her.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and tried to kiss him. "One more time for old time sake," she pleaded.

"The last time I saw you, you stole my money, took the keys to the car and told three guys named Vito that I had --."

"Ancient history," she cut him off. "And I did visit you in the hospital, you don't even notice the scar." She brushed the hair back off his forehead.

He opened the door. "Go, Shannon."

"Douggie," she drawled.

Mildred walked up the hall. "Boss, did you see -?" she cut short her question when she saw Shannon.

"Laura?" he finished for her. "Where is she?"

"In the lobby with some guy that looks like he just stepped out of an Indiana Jones movie."

Steele shrugged. "Mildred, can you take care of this?" He pointed to Shannon. "Get her a room, preferably at another hotel." He headed toward the elevator.

"Don't you want to hear what I found out?" Mildred called after him.

"Every word," he owned. "Later Mildred."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Laura stepped out on to the busy street not knowing where she was going, but needing to be away from everyone so she could think.

"Where to?" Tony followed after her.

"I'll be back," she stated picking up her pace.

"Laura," he kept in step with her. "Why do you let him do this to you? … He's not worth it."

She stopped dead in her tracks. "Who are you?" she demanded to know.

"I've told you." He was immediately defensive.

"How do you know so much about me? About my life? About him?" She pointed back to the hotel. "How dare you presume to know any of that?"

"You deserve better --."

She cut him off. "How do you know what I deserve?" Something occurred to her. "Why do you care? This is just another mission for you … using people to get when you need; dangling carrots and making them do what you want them to do? How can I be sure when we get you whatever it is you want, you will follow through with what you promised?"

"I am a man of my word, Laura." He defended.

"How do I know that?" she tossed back at him. "I don't know anything about you … in fact, I am not sure I have ever seen your identification."

"We don't carry that kind of identification," Tony responded.

"How about a passport, driver's license, a Blockbuster card." She scoffed. "I am sure those are all faked too."

"A rose by any other name --"

"And a pile of bullshit still stinks." She finished for him. "Go away Tony … leave me alone. You have gotten all you need from me, I handed you Remington Steele … just leave me out of it from now on." She turned to walk away.

"I can't do that, Laura," He called after her.

"Go away."

"I can't," he caught up with her again.

"What?" she demanded. "What now? What else do you want from me?"

"You," he stated reluctantly. "I want you … I care about you … I may even be in love with you." He continued sheepishly. "And I don't want to see Steele using you … or hurt you any more. I still can't believe he married you to avoid deportation."

A realization washed over Laura. Roselli knew too much, it was the first thing that annoyed her about him. He knew things about her that someone she just met shouldn't know: how she takes her coffee, what food she likes, that a marriage to her partner of four years was sudden. "You have been investigating me," she stated. "Watching me! Stalking me!"

"Since the diamond heist," he owned. "But I think _**stalking**_ is a bit strong. We like to call it surveillance."

She felt violated. "And all that sewage you were spewing …" She realized that all the things he had been saying about Steele were made up to cause her to doubt and she fell right into it. She felt like a fool, angry with herself and furious with him. "And you think he is not good enough? You are the worst kind of man." She stated. "A man with power who uses it and abuses it for personal gain. You are not good enough to shine his shoes." She slapped him hard in the face.

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Steele spied Laura and Tony in the crowd just as her hand made contact with his cheek. He was about to leap to her defense (not that she needed it) when he someone grabbed his arm and he felt the muzzle of a gun shoved into his back.

"So, Mr. Remington Steele," said the voice behind him. "Your wife says that you have our money and the pictures."

"Gentlemen," he responded. "You will need to get your facts straight … I don't have your pictures or your money and Shannon Wayne is not my wife."

Smithers poked the barrel of the gun into his back harder. "Well, facts or not … you have 24 hours … and I am leaving my friend here so you don't try to skip town." The friend waved from across the street.

"That is completely unnecessary," Steele dismissed.

"24 hours, Steele," Smithers stated again. "Mr. Theodopolis is not a forgiving man."

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As Laura approached she saw Smithers release his hold on Steele and tuck his gun back under his coat. "What was that all about?" she asked when they had finally gotten close.

"Shannon's in trouble," he shrugged.

"What kind of trouble?"

"Don't know," he gave her a look to see if she believed him. "Until just this minute I didn't care, it wasn't my problem."

"And now?"

"And now it's my problem." He linked his arm with hers and started walking. Both Tony and Smithers henchmen kept pace with them from across the street.

"Our problem," she corrected.

He smiled. "Is that an apology?"

"Do I need to apologize?" she asked vainly.

"I am sure there is something you could think of to apologize for, as I am sure there is something that I need to show some remorse for," he admitted. "For the moment, and because we have bigger problems to deal with, let's call it a draw, eh?"

She nodded but remained silent. She actually did want to apologize, more than that she didn't want there to be a distance between them. She squeaked out a question that had been plaguing her since she was extradited back to the states. "Do you still consider yourself married?" she asked.

"Laura, I told you … I haven't seen Shannon in six years," he defended.

She turned to him. "I wasn't referring to Shannon."

"You still think I am going to cut and run?" The frustration in his voice was nearly tangible.

"No," she answered simply. "It's just you and me … all the rest of it can go to hell … Tony, Shannon, political intrigue and bad guys … right here, right now. I don't care about your name, your past, our past or our future."

"What are you asking me?" He didn't know what she wanted to hear.

She didn't know what she was asking either. "Never mind," she turned and started walking again.

He did not follow. "Are you asking me if I love you?"

"I don't know," she hadn't really thought of it that simply but maybe it was something as straightforward as a declaration of love; not that a declaration of love would ever be considered _**straightforward**_ between these two. "Do you?"

He stepped up to her. "Do you?"

A smiled spread across her face. "I do," she said easily. "I really do."

"Doubts and all?" he pressed.

She nodded and broadened her smile. "Yes." For the first time in her life she really understood that love is a leap of faith. It is something that is given freely and unconditionally with no expectation of return, almost as if he was irrelevant. She didn't have to lose her self when she made that leap. She didn't have to resolve her doubts or logically answer any question. She didn't have to defend her choice. All she had to do was trust in her self and love.

He smiled back. "I do too."

They should have kissed. They should have gone back to the room and made up for lost time. Instead, he took her hand and they walked the streets of London talking. There was a lot to discuss that had nothing to do with the two of them; questions to raise, issues to resolve, strategies to plan. In short – detecting. It was what they did best.

They found themselves back at the hotel an hour or so later, still with Roselli and Smithers henchmen in tow. Steele took her in his arms on the steps in font of the lobby. "We still have our shadows." He kissed lightly her cheek.

"I don't care." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him ala Tracy Lords.

He smiled and looked over at Roselli. "We will be in for the night," he called over to them. "You can take a break." He led her back into the hotel. "Did I tell you how much I like you as a brunette?"

"Me too," she laughed. "Now, can we talk about this beard of yours?"


	6. Chapter 6

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The Real Steeles – Part 6

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"Negatives?" Shannon exclaimed. "There are no negatives, what are you talking about?"

Laura maintained her composure. She was going to be in charge, not some red-headed piece of fluff from his past. "Theodoplis' pictures … the ones he wants back, and how much of the money do you have left." She scanned the room with all its boxes and bags from London's finest shoppes.

"Ah, well," Shannon looked away. "Yes, the money … well … um …"

"You can't tell me you spent it all!" Laura barked.

"A girl has expenses." Shannon explained.

"How much was it Shannon?" Steele's calm voice broke the tension.

"25,000," she said sheepishly.

"Pounds or dollars?" Steele asked.

Shannon shrugged a smile. "Why of course it's pounds, darling."

Laura and Steele shared a look. There was no way to raise that kind of cash in less than 24 hours short of robbing a bank, which was not wholly out of the question.

"The pictures?" Laura asked again.

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The stroll around London gave our heroes an opportunity to assess the situation - situations rather – in relative peace and quiet albeit being observed. They were working together again and it felt great. It was agreed that Shannon's problem was more immediate and dangerous (lethally so). Whatever was on Roselli's agenda would have to wait. It was reluctantly agreed that Shannon probably had no ulterior motives (Laura still wondered about how much she wanted him back, but choose to put her trust in him rather than her). In any event she could probably be trusted not to sell them out (unlike Roselli). Steele knew – knew of - Nicholas Theodopolis. He was not a man to be tested and if Shannon had something that he wanted no one around her would be safe. Smithers had said something about the money and pictures. The assumption was that they were compromising pictures of Shannon and Theodopolis that needed to be kept away from his wife, but Steele had a hard time believing that Shannon was a blackmailer. She was a lot of things, but blackmailer was not one of them.

Laura and Steele did retreat to their bedroom and they made a pretty good show at the window convincing Roselli and Smither's man they were in for the night. However, sex was the last thing on their minds, nor were they expecting to stay locked in the hotel. They slipped into Mildred's room.

After the pleasantries were over Mildred launched right in.

"We are still not sure what is on this disc … most of it is in code, but it looks like a hit list," she surmised. "It has got dates and locations and what we are assuming are names, but we haven't broken the code yet."

"A hit list?" Laura asked. "Why do you think it is a hit list?"

"Call it a hunch, but there are dollar amounts next to each line … except the last entry. Next to that is zero. The date on that was three days ago."

"Three days ago she was in Taipei and she killed Keyes." Steele said.

"This can't be what Keyes' took from the safe." Laura guessed. "Can it?"

"I found it in Lily Bell's bible," Steele said. "Don't know where she got it."

"Unless it's hers." Laura stated.

"Her black book?" Steele added.

Laura nodded. It beginning to appear that Lily Bell was an assassin. It made her angry. Roselli should have told her. He should have warned her. Instead he used Steele like a bird dog to track her down. Fear washed with relief came over her. Laura was in the same room with that woman, she could easily have killed Laura if that were expedient. Steele was in her room; Bell would have had no hesitation in killing him either. They were off her radar at the moment (unlike Keyes), but if they continued to play the pawns in Roselli's game they would certainly get sacrificed.

"Laura?" Steele brought her back from her concerns.

"There are future dates as well," Mildred added. "In fact the next date is Friday."

"Friday?" Steele asked. "Two days from now?"

"If we live to see Friday ourselves," Laura reminded the group of the other killers that were watching them.

"Yes, right. First things first." Steele was back on track. "Where did you stash Shannon?"

"Down the hall … room 819."

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Shannon, Shannon, Shannon," Steele scolded. "Money always did burn a hole in your pocket."

She shrugged coyly.

"What about the pictures?" Laura asked again.

"I have them … well I have them stored," she corrected.

"Where are they now?"

"They're safe … trust me," she tried to sound reassuring. "They are not really his, you know," she defended. "He stole them before … well before I acquired them."

"Shannon!" Steele was losing patience.

"I will have to show you." She grabbed her coat from the pile of clothes on the bed. Pulled off the tags and slipped it on. "Don't you think this looks great on me?"

Laura nodded to Steele and they stepped off to the side to have a private conversation.

"How are we going to get out of here?" she asked. "Between Roselli and the other guy …"

"We'll need a distraction and probably a disguise," he told her with a smile.

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Thirty minutes later Laura was stepping out of the driver's seat of a limousine dressed in full chauffer uniform with Shannon and Steele getting out of the back like movie stars. It was fairly easy to slip away. Roselli was nowhere to be seen and Smither's man was dealing with a persistent bag lady (Mildred) asking for directions and money. They were in front of a boarding house in a part of London that was probably not on any list of must see places.

"Dougie you remember Jack, right?" She asked.

"Jack O'Bryne?" He was aghast. "Is he still alive?"

"And kicking," came the voice of an older man standing directly behind Steele. He was a study in gray – gray as the London sky: hair, skin, teeth, clothes. It was clear that he had done some hard living, but his eyes were wise and kind and he had an inviting smile. "So what are you calling yourself these days, Mick?"

"Steele, Remington Steele." He stuck his hand out to shake the old man's hand. Steele knew Jack many, many years ago, when he was just a kid. Ran into him again years later when he had hooked up with Shannon for a time. Jack wasn't a grifter so much as he was an opportunist. Steele liked him.

Jack turned his attention to Laura. "And who is this lovely lady." He took her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.

"Laura Holt." Steele added proudly, "My wife. Laura … Jack O'Bryne."

"A pleasure to meet you," Laura was charmed by the man

"I am sure the pleasure is mine." He let her hand go and turned back to Shannon. "So what has my girl gotten me into this time," he moved toward the steps leading them up into the boarding house.

"I left something with you," Shannon reminded him. "A few days ago … I just need to get it back."

"Ah yes, the Monet."

Laura and Steele shared a look. "MONET?"

"One of his lesser works," Jack added. "But the Degas is exquisite. I have never liked Reubens but I suppose he has his fans."

"Monet, Degas, Reubens?" Laura and Steele had no idea that 'pictures' meant ART.

"There should be a Renoir in the group as well," came Smithers voice from behind them. He grabbed Laura and shoved a gun into her back. "Let's go!"

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Steele, Laura, Shannon and Jack were brought before Nicholas Theodopolis. He was an imposing man (though that could have been due to the two bodyguards that flanked him at all times). He had dark skin, thick wavy hair and nearly black eyes, he was probably younger than he looked. He was not a happy man.

"Shannon, my dear," he said dryly. "Lovely to see you again."

"Nicky." She smiled nervously.

"Right back where we started, aren't we?"

"Seems that way," Shannon confirmed.

"You have cost me time, money and you called my reputation in to question." His voice was cold; dead cold. "You know that I can't let that go."

"If you will permit me," Steele tried to jump in.

"I will get to you Mr. Steele." Theodopolis shut him down and turned his attention back to Shannon. "How do you suggest we take care of this, my dear?"

Shannon looked panicked. Clearly her charm would not work with him this time.

"Jack O'Bryne." He looked at Jack. "You are getting too old for this, my friend."

"I am indeed." He confirmed. "But I say, no harm, no foul … you got your pictures back."

"Ah, but that is not what I wanted," he explained. "And Shannon knows that. These are no longer mine." He laughed and nodded to one of his men. "You can go, Jack … I am sure that I owe you that much."

One of the bodyguards took Jack's arm.

"I would really rather stay," he said. "Shannon --."

"Nothing will happen to Shannon provided Mr. Steele and his lovely bride can do as they are told." He nodded again and the guard pulled Jack out of the room and closed the door.

Theodopolis shook his head clearly amused by some old memory. He turned his withering glare to Steele and Laura. "I am sorry that she dragged you into this too – truly I am - but you are here now so I am compelled to make use of you."

Laura and Steele exchanged a look.

"Ms. Wayne got in the middle of what should have been a very easy transaction. Time was of the essence to keep all parties undetected. Sadly, that is not the case. The stakes are much higher now." He turned back to Shannon. "We you aware that young Mr. Highland was killed?"

"Oh no." Shannon was clearly not aware of that.

"Mr. Highland was tasked with taking these items to their new owner. He was paid handsomely for his task. 25000 pound upfront, and what would have been another 50000 upon delivery." He glared at Shannon, scanning her new wardrobe. "I suppose all that money is gone." He shook his head; she was too predictable. "You Mr. Steele will take it upon yourself to deliver these to their rightful owner and I in turn will not kill Shannon or your wife."

Steele tried to look as unphased as he could. "Who? Where? When?" he asked.

"The who is of no importance … the where is Ireland, Dublin to be precise … I believe you are familiar with that city … the when is tomorrow night at 6PM."

"Dublin is a big place." He stated.

"You will get more details once I know you understand the gravity of the situation."

Steele was about to come back with something flip but he caught Laura out of the corner of his eye. "I understand," he said gravely. "Might I make a suggestion?"

Theodopolis liked him for some reason and nodded.

"It would be a lot easier traveling as a newly married couple than it would be alone," he suggested. "Would draw less attention, if you get my meaning."

Theodopolis thought for a moment. "I see you point," he agreed. "Take Shannon with you."

"Yes, I could," he was thinking quickly. "However Shannon has already been connected with this issue … she is known."

"Well, that is true as well … then I guess you will have to do this on your own." Theodopolis had the ability to know a man's weakness upon meeting him. If he thought Steele were about money, then the 50000 pounds would have been his payment, but a man who doesn't care about money, cares about something else. "Mrs. Steele will stay with me until the task is done, and then she may join you."

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Steele boarded the train that would take him to the boat that would take him to Ireland. He had to trust Theodopolis's word – not something he wanted to do. Smithers watched from the platform. He had given Steele the final instructions and was just there to make sure he did not get off the train. Steele sat back. This was no ordinary task. He was not going to a very safe place in Dublin. People had been killed for these pictures and it wasn't by lovers of the arts.

"Where are we going?" came Roselli's voice as he slid in next to him. "And where is Laura?"

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Laura was checking the windows and the doors of the room they had been locked into.

"What are you doing?" Shannon asked.

"We are getting out of here," Laura stated.


	7. Chapter 7

Authors Note: So sorry to take so long to update. RL can be crazy at times and really zap the old muse. Anyway, not the last chapter, but pretty close - one maybe two more. Hopefully by this weekend. If you are still readin, thanks for sticking with it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Real Steeles – Part 7

Laura was checking the windows and the doors of the room they had been locked into. She was bound and determined to get out. She really wasn't sure of her motivation: to get to Steele, to get away from Shannon or just to be free of threatened death.

"What are you doing?" Shannon asked.

"Getting out of here," Laura stated.

Shannon had seen people locked in by Theodopolis before. She knew that there would be men waiting and watching somewhere, but that it was really no threat at all. _**Nicky**_ was not typically a killer of women, so she felt relatively safe. "Why?" she asked. "He will let us out tomorrow night as soon as Dougie delivers those pictures."

"I'm not waiting that long." Laura was looking for something to unlock the door.

"So, where did you and Dougie meet?" she asked drolly. "Remington Steele … what is that? Is he an agent? An actor? An interior decorator?" She was digging at Laura to get her to react.

"Private Investigator," Laura stated annoyed that she had to. "Don't you read the papers?"

Shannon knew exactly who Laura Holt and Remington Steele were. "How in the world …" she scanned Laura up and down. "Where YOU able to get him to marry you?"

Laura glanced at her quickly trying to decide if she was being mocked or if it was more about Steele and his 'free bird' ways. It was her … she was the one being mocked. She went right back to the task at hand without responding.

"It's probably just a scam right?" she asked. "Not a real marriage at all."

Laura felt compelled to say something and getting her off the topic of Steele and the marriage would be the best result. "Do you know where the hallway outside leads?"

"To the kitchen or to the servants quarters, I think," Shannon dismissed. "Seriously, Dougie is not the marrying kind. I have known him for many years … we always seem to cross each other's path … if you know what I mean … every year or so. I wondered where he'd been." She got a distant look in her eye and smiled. "He is one of a kind, he is."

Laura was watching Shannon out of the corner of her eye. She didn't like the fact that Shannon knew 'Dougie'. She didn't like the expression on Shannon's face as she remembered the times she and Steele were together.

"There was one time … we were in Paris … or was is Marseilles?" Shannon laughed and continued unchecked. "It must have been Marseilles. There was a yacht, and sun, and heat … and suntan lotion." She looked back at Laura. "He is great with his hands, isn't he?"

The green-eyed monster was crawling up Laura's spine. "Look, Ms. Wayne," Laura said sternly but focusing on the lock so Shannon wouldn't see how really angry Laura was. "I don't really want to know about your past with Mr. Steele –"

"Mr. Steele?" Shannon jumped on the faux pas. "You call your husband Mr. Steele? Is this the 1800s?" She laughed. "I knew it was a scam … so what's the angle? Come on … you can tell me."

Laura made one final twist at the lock she had been working and it opened. She had never been happier to get out of confinement in her life. "Are you coming?"

Shannon shook her head. "I'll be fine here," she stated again.

"Suit yourself." Laura wanted to say something else but everything was petty and mean, so she kept it to herself.

Laura checked the hallway to ensure it was clear of guards. She went right, down the hall toward the servant's quarters. She heard voices coming her way and slipped into the first room she found and waited until they passed. When it was safe she slipped out again only to be grabbed from behind by some very strong hands.

"Taking a stroll, are we, Mrs. Steele?" he grumbled.

Laura struggled to get away. A loud crash of broken pottery came from behind her, the grip was released and the man fell to the floor. She looked back and Shannon was standing there with the remains of a lamp in her hands. She had clearly knocked the man out with it.

She shrugged. "Changed my mind," she said mater-of-factly.

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Steele boarded the train that would take him to the boat that would take him to Ireland. He had to trust Theodopolis's word – not something he wanted to do. Smithers watched from the platform. He had given Steele the final instructions and was just there to make sure he did not get off the train. Steele sat back. This was no ordinary task. He was not going to a very safe place in Dublin. People had been killed for these pictures and it wasn't by lovers of the arts; not to mention the added incentive of keeping his wife alive. He smiled. 'She has probably already gotten herself out of there,' he thought to himself and wondered how long before Theodopolis discovered that she was gone.

"Where do you think you're going?" came Roselli's voice as he slid in next to him. "And where's Laura?"

"Ah, Mr. Roselli," Steele drawled. "So hoped we had lost you."

"Not likely, Steele." Roselli pulled the piece of paper that Steele had stuffed into his pocket telling him who, where and when. "Too bad you won't make this appointment." He handed the note back to him after tearing it in half.

Steele was not amused by Roselli's 'show of force' but he didn't respond.

"I know what Keyes was selling," he said flatly.

"Oh?" Steele's only interest was that if the Keyes mystery was resolved then Roselli would have no reason to stay in their lives.

"A list of our double agents," he went on.

"Our?" Steele questioned.

"Yes, OURS … US, British, all the GOOD GUYS." He looked around to be sure he wasn't heard. "Actually it was a list of the bad guys as well … which is why anyone would pay or kill to have it."

"Who would compile such a list?" Steele was unimpressed with the intrigue. "And why is it still an issue if Keyes has been holding it for nearly a year?"

"We didn't know it existed until he tried to sell it three months ago. And it isn't important who compiled the list … it was probably Keyes himself," Roselli snapped.

"How would an investigator at Vigilance Insurance get such information?" Steele asked.

"His day job?" Roselli suggested implying that Keyes was a spy.

Steele smirked. "I think I saw this in a movie once, but the plot was too farfetched, so I walked out."

"This is no movie, Steele," Roselli reminded him. "People are dying and it is my job … now your job … to make sure that list doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

"I suppose that depends on what side your hands are on, does it not?" Steele offered.

"Just whose side are you on? … Is your name on that list?" Roselli attacked.

"You can't con a con man, Anthony." Steele laughed. "Clearly yours is."

Roselli was frustrated. "Do you have it?"

Steele shrugged and shook his head. "The list? What would make you think I have it?"

"Because Lily Bell did … and now she is dead."

"Did you kill her?" He scanned him up and down trying to decide if Roselli could actually kill a man.

"Someone got there first," Roselli explained.

"That is our Anthony," Steele smiled looking out the window as the train slowed. "Unfashionably late."

"Yeah, whatever." He was growing impatient. "She told me that it was stolen from her in Taipei."

"I thought you said she was dead when you got to her."

"Not quite." He ran his hands through his hair. "Look Steele I know you have it … I know your secretary is working on something."

At the mention of Mildred Steele realized how much danger she was in by just having that disc in her possession.

"I could just get it from her … or let them know where it is." Roselli warned.

Steele maintained his composure but got up and moved away from him. "It seems to be a habit with you … using women to get what you want."

"At least I don't marry them." He looked around noticing that Steele had no luggage except for a leather cylinder. "Where's Laura?" Roselli asked again.

"You take an eager interest in my wife, Anthony." Steele leaned against the door to his cabin. "Another man might be jealous."

"Not you?" Tony tossed back. He noticed that the train was coming to an unscheduled stop. "What's going on?" Roselli looked out the window to see several policemen boarding the train.

"I think someone is looking for you, my man." Steele smiled and sunk back down into the seat opposite.

"You have got to help me," Roselli pleaded.

"Thought you were one of the GOOD guys," Steele quipped. "What do you have to fear from the police?"

"They think I killed Lily Bell … they don't know who she is."

"I am sure you can explain everything to their satisfaction." Steele assured him.

"There is no time to explain," Roselli stated panicked. "Help me."

"Just what side of the list are you on, anyway?"

"Steele!"

Steele thought for a moment. There was really no reason he should help him, but there was something about him that made it impossible for Steele to turn him in. He got up and pulled up the seat cushion on the bench. "Get in."

"Are you kidding?" Roselli shrieked.

"Do you want to go to jail or worse … get sent back to Moscow?" Steele pointed into the bench. "Get in."

Roselli did as he was ordered to do. "I am trusting you, Steele."

"Probably not your first mistake." Steele pushed the bench back into place and sat down. By time the police got to him he was reading the paper and looking very innocent.

"Have you seen this man?" The man asked shoving a picture (none to flattering) of Anthony Roselli at him.

"Why what has he done?" Steele pushed the picture back.

"A police matter … have you seen him?"

Steele shrugged and shook his head. "Not my type."

"If you do … keep clear … very dangerous … call it in."

The police left, the train got going about 30 minutes later. After about 10 minutes, Roselli started banging on the inside of the bench. Muffled words were heard from under the cushion.

"Can't be too careful, Anthony." Steele needed to get word to Mildred and he wasn't sure how he was going to do that. He got up to go to the dining car. Knocking could be heard coming from under the bench.

A muffled "STEELE!!" was heard but the porter, but he didn't stop.

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Laura paced around the shabby room. It was a fleabag hotel in the West End; Jack's idea. They met him on their way out of Theodopolis' house; his way back in to get them.

"This is taking too long," Laura groaned.

Shannon looked up from her mirror (she was reapplying her make up). "I agree," she stated. "And I'm starving, let's go get some lunch."

"We are not on vacation," Laura scolded her.

"Oh please, Laura." Shannon laughed. "Nicky let us go."

"Then why keep us at all?" Laura tossed back.

"To motivate Dougie," she shrugged. "I told you, Nicky doesn't kill women."

Laura shook her head. She did not agree with Shannon's assessment of the situation. Getting out of Theodopolis' house was no easy task. If it weren't for Jack, they would have been caught. He was now tasked with going back to the hotel to see if Steele had gotten them a message.

Voices were heard on the stairs. Laura picked up a lamp and hid by the door. Jack walked in followed by Mildred.

"Mildred what are you doing here?" she exclaimed.

"I made him bring me," she explained. "We are in a lot of danger."

"I realize that." Laura put her hands on Mildred's arms. "That's why I am sending you home. You are to be on the next plane out of here that gets anywhere close to the US."

"No, No," Mildred protested. "You don't understand Miss Holt … Mrs. Steele … Laura." She pulled the disc out of her purse. "This isn't a hit list … this is a pay off list … names, dates, amounts … I still don't know what it all means … but I can tell you this … Anthony Roselli's name appears more than twice from at least two different sources." Mildred lowered her voice. "He is a double agent," she resolved.

"Are you sure?" she questioned.

"Yes … Fraud Squad remember?" She looked back at Shannon and Jack. "There is one other thing … when I was down at Police Headquarters—"

"When were you at police headquarters?" Laura interrupted.

Mildred looked shamed. "They picked me up for vagrancy," she dismissed it quickly. "There was a murder … a woman … I believe it was Lily Bell … but they didn't have a name … but they did have Anthony Roselli spotted leaving the scene of the crime. They are searching for him now."

Laura thought for a moment. Her original intention was to get to Dublin to back Steele up, but now the stakes were raised. She at least needed to get word to Steele, turn the disc over to the proper authorities (who ever they might be), get Mildred out of the line of fire all while avoiding Theodopolis' men.

"Jack," she called. "What did you find out about where Mr. Steele is going?"

Jack and Shannon shared a look. "She calls him Mr. Steele?" he asked.

"I guess that is the price you pay for marrying the boss," Shannon surmised.

"Jack!." Laura got him to focus.

"Assuming time is of the essence … I would bet that he is boarding the ferry at Holyhead within the hour."

"We need to get him a message." She looked around the room for some paper and scribbled something on it. She scrapped that paper, thought for a moment and wrote something else down. "Can you make the call?" She handed it to Jack.

He read the note and nodded. He was about to leave when he remembered Shannon. He looked to Laura.

"She will be fine with me." She assured him.

"Until I get back," he warned Shannon. "Don't leave this room."

"I really think you people are making too much of this." Shannon rolled her eyes.

"Do not leave this room!" Jack warned again.

"Fine … but I am going to need to eat sooner than later."

Jack nodded to Laura, at least they understood the situation.

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The police were checking every passenger as they disembarked from the train. Roselli had changed in to a porter's uniform that Steele had acquired for him. Steele still wasn't quite sure why he was helping him, but he was. He was so pathetic.

"I've got to catch this ferry, mate," he said to him. "I suggest you keep your head down."

"You can't leave me here Steele."

"You are a resourceful man, Anthony," Steele told him. "I am sure you have gotten yourself out of tougher situations.'

There was a page for Richard Blaine over the PA. It was announced three times before Steele recognized that is was for him. Roselli followed him to receive the message still expecting that Steele would help him. He listened to the message once and asked them to repeat it and asked when it had come in. He turned to Roselli. "Anthony, I wish I could say I am sorry that I am about to do this, but I am really not."

Roselli looked puzzled.

Steele whistled and waved to a police officer. "Sir, I believe this is the man you are looking for."

The cops were on him in a second. "Steele …" Roselli had blood in his eyes.

"If you're innocent, Anthony … they will figure that out … if you are guilty, then God help you."

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Mildred came out of interrogation about four hours after it had begun. She was completely wrung out. It was a tag team cross-examination with the CIA and MI6, but she had been worse in her IRS days. They kept asking her over and over where Steele was and she could honestly say she didn't know. They demanded to know who was helping her decode the disc, but she would not give him up. They demanded to know how the disc came into her possession, and all she would say was that it was retrieved from Lily Bell's room – she went so far as to imply that she had stolen it.

Laura didn't have the luxury of honesty; but she kept falling back on the fact that they brought the disk to them as soon as they found out what it was. She had been prepared for the kind of interrogation she had gotten at the FBI; in fact she expected it to be worse. Not so much. The authorities didn't want to let them go, but in the end there was really nothing they could hold Laura and Mildred on; their passports were confiscated anyway. On their way out they saw Tony being brought in.

Roselli of course had sung like a bird all the way to London about Steele, even told them the place and time of the drop – actually even implied that it was a treasonous act. The officers in charge of bringing him back were unimpressed and failed to call it in; probably the last mistake of their professional careers.

With Shannon and Theodopolis completely forgotten, Laura and Mildred went back to the hotel. It was about 8:30 (two and a half hours after the time that Steele was to make the connection and pass over the pictures). They had hoped that he had gotten a message back to them, that all was well. Alas there was nothing at the desk waiting for Laura Holt-Steele, Mildred Krebbs or Ilsa Lund. When they entered the room, Theodopolis and Shannon were sitting there.

"I didn't know where else to go." Shannon whined.

A gun was shoved in Laura's back and she and Mildred were pushed into the room – the door locked behind them.

"Looks like your husband ran out on you, Mrs. Steele."

Laura knew that wasn't true, but any one of a number of things could have prevented him from making the drop. She was now very concerned about him.

"I am a man of my word, Mrs. Steele," he stated matter-of-factly. "So why don't the three of us take a little ride." He stood up slowly.

"Mildred had nothing to do with this," Laura protested.

"No," he smiled at the women. "No she didn't, but now she does." He turned to Mildred. "We haven't met, Nicolas Theodopolis." He gave her a slight nod of the head.

"Mildred Krebbs," she stated warily.

"Let's go." Smithers grabbed Mildred's arm, Theodopolis linked his through Shannon's and Laura had a decision to make. Try to escape or talk her way out of it. Nothing was coming; she was totally blocked.


	8. Chapter 8

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx The Real Steeles – Part 8

Laura, Mildred and Shannon were being followed out of the hotel but Theodopolis and his man Smithers. They were just about to step in to the limo when Laura spied one of the MI6 agents from her interrogation across the street. He was clearly there to follow her and presumably to take Steele in for questioning. The agent recognized Theodopolis immediately and halted their departure. Not wanting any interaction with the authorities, Theodopolis left without the ladies.

"How is he involved?" the agent asked Laura.

"A very long and unrelated story," she told him. "But I am ready to tell you where my husband went."

"Why?" He was suspicious of her change of mind.

"Because I believe he is in trouble," she stated clearly. "And because I need your help."

"What makes you think I will help you?"

"Because we are both after the same thing." She paused. "The safe return of Remington Steele."

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Theodopolis was furious. He was barking orders and demanding results. All men were 'hopping to' except Smithers. He seemed totally unimpressed by his boss's attitude; in fact he seemed slightly amused.

"What is wrong with you?" Theodopolis yelled at him.

"I can answer that?" came Steele's voice from the corner. He was sitting in a chair by the fire smoking a cigar and sipping some brandy.

"Steele!" Theodopolis shouted. "Where are my pictures?"

Steele took a slow pull from the glass and nodded his approval of the vintage. "You might want to ask Smithers."

It was clear that Smithers was affected by the accusation, but he was maintaining his composure. "I gave them to you."

"No, you gave me posters," Steele corrected pointing to the desk at the cheap imitations. He looked back at Theodopolis, "your buyer was not amused."

Theodopolis' eyes burned with fire when he realized his chief lieutenant had double-crossed him – not once, but twice. "Where are they?"

Steele's calm voice continued. "With their rightful … well … their new owner, anyway."

Theodopolis was confused.

"Handed them over an hour ago." Steele said. "Please, contact him yourself. I have time." He took a lazy hit off the cigar.

Theodopolis did just that. When he hung up he spoke to Steele over his shoulder. "You may go." He nodded for one of his guards to take custody of Smithers.

Steele stood up and drained his glass. "Not interested in the details?" He was almost disappointed.

"No … just results." He turned to watch Steele leave. "I am in your debt, Mr. Steele."

Steele didn't want a man like Theodopolis in his debt, but it was better than the alternative. "How about just a ride back to town?"

Theodopolis ageed.

"One last thing." Steele waited for the nod from him, which was granted. He turned to Smithers and decked him.

Theodopolis laughed. "Anything else?" he asked.

Steele shook his hand from the pain. "No, that ought to do." Steele nodded and left.

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Steele walked out of interrogation shortly after 3AM. He had gone back to the hotel, Mildred told him of all that had been going on and he turned himself in – it seemed like the only logical choice. There was no sense in running from the CIA and MI6, not if they ever wanted to go home and there was nothing he wanted more than to go back to Los Angeles. It had been 9 weeks of adventure, intrigue and some very tense times. The time they spent at the villa in Fiji seemed like decades ago and way too short. It was time to take his bride home and back to their life – albeit vastly improved in one area.

Laura had fallen asleep on the wooden bench waiting for him. He had suggested that she go back to the hotel, but she had refused. Said she wasn't going anywhere without him. It wasn't as romantic as it sounded, Laura was in full 'Laura' mode and wasn't about to let anything get out of her control. Clearly she was ready to go home too.

He knelt down next to her and gently brushed her hair off her brow. She stirred slightly then startled awake. "What?"

"Hey, Hey," he said softly. "Everything is OK … we are good to go." He smiled holding up their passports.

"What? How?" She was still a little disoriented.

"Not sure, but I have to think your Mr. Roselli had something to do with it."

"He is not **MY** Mr. Roselli." She sat up and wiped her face. "And why would he help us, you turned him in?"

"I did," he said proudly. "I'm sure it was the most expedient way to save his own hide," Steele added.

"Did they let him go too?" She looked around.

"No ... I think they will keep him here for quite a while."

"Good," she stated. "Can we go home?"

He nodded. "But how about 24 hours of uninterrupted sleep first?" It had finally caught up with them that they had been up for some 36 hours.

"I have said it before, Mr. Steele."

"And you can say it again, Mrs. Steele," he prompted.

"I like the way you think." She allowed him to pull her to standing and the walked out leaning on each other for support.

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

It wasn't quite 24 hours, but Laura woke feeling very rested. He was spooned up behind her holding her very securely. It was amazing to her. She had always been a tosser when she slept. Rarely if ever got a full night's sleep without waking once or twice or three times to shift her position and check the clock. But every night that they had slept in the same bed, she didn't move, didn't wake, didn't stir at all. That morning (afternoon?) she stayed there, still in his arms just feeling him breathe; thinking about the past, recent events and their future. Laura was never one to wear rose-colored glasses, but she did think things were looking up.

"Hey there," he whispered in her ear. "Tell me it's not morning." He pulled her close.

"It's not morning," she confirmed. "In fact I think it's very late in the afternoon."

"How about we order room service and not leave this bed until very late tomorrow afternoon." Not a novel request from our hero.

"You have my vote," she agreed knowing full well that it would not happen, but it was nice to think about. She laughed – well chuckled really.

"What's so funny?"

"Was just thinking that the last couple of months will make one hell of a story to tell our grandkids," she explained.

"Who would believe this?" He tried to ignore the rest of her comment, but really couldn't. He turned her toward him. "Do you want grandchildren? We never really talked about …" He let his words trail off.

"Yeah," she said reluctantly. "Someday … maybe … there's no rush." She looked up at him. "Is there? Do you want …"

"Haven't really given it much thought, really" he owned. "But I suppose … no rush … maybe … someday."

"Right! Yeah! Of Course!" She stated. "We don't want to drop a kid off at day care and go investigate a murder."

He smiled remembering a time when he asked her that very question but when he asked it was hypothetical.

"Or be kidnapped and held hostage, " she continued.

"My point, exactly."

They kissed and snuggled back into their positions pretending as if they would go back to sleep. There was silence for a moment as each stayed in his/her own thoughts spinning a little faster than they were.

He finally broke the silence. "We have one more stop before we can go home, you know?" He was referring to their plan to go to Ireland.

Laura thought for a moment, trying to choose her words carefully. His name had been a major sticking point between them. It **HAD** been, but ever since she found out that he really didn't know, rather than him keeping it from her – the 'sticking point' seemed to have faded away for her (except for the part that she had no good name to call him). She had only suggested they go to Ireland before because they needed to get his paperwork in order for him to go home – it had nothing to do with trust or a sign of his commitment. Since Anthony Roselli had done that for them, there really was nothing standing in their way to go back their lives.

She turned to face him. "I want you to know something." She paused hoping he would understand her sincerity. "You don't need to do that for me," she didn't like how the words came out. "I want you to know … to really understand … I know who you are … at least who you are to me … a piece of paper, a piece of history, a name on a birth certificate, a history, a heritage won't change that … what I know is enough for me."

He smiled. "A rose by any other name?"

"Something like that."

"Thank you, Laura." He kissed her forehead. "I think that is probably the nicest thing you have every said to me."

"I'm sure it isn't." She tucked herself into his embrace.

"But if I wanted to …?" He asked.

"Then we go … and not quit until we find the answer," she replied easily.

He pulled her close. "That's the 'never say die' Laura I know and love." He was silent for a moment trying to find his own words. He wanted to propose something to her and didn't really know how. "I need to ask you something else." He pulled away.

She sat up slightly worried. "Ok."

He took her hand. "When we get back to Los Angeles …" He paused again and swallowed hard. He had never asked this question before, nor did he think he ever would. He swallowed one more time. "Will you marry me?"

She was slightly taken aback. "Didn't we do that already?"

"No, not so much," he said. "I was thinking about something small … on the beach at sunset, maybe with your family and Mildred –without the INS watching over our shoulder, a nice dinner after and the weekend in Catalina or Malibu or Big Sur."

She shook her head smiling. "I don't know why, but your romantic side always surprises me."

"I hope to still be surprising you in 20 or 30 years." He waited for her response.

"Yes, I will marry you," she answered considering her next comment. "Ya know, I have always believed that marriage was a commitment between two people - not the family and extended family … would you mind if were just us? Just the two of us?"

He let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Just the two of us." He kissed her. "As you wish."

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

They woke several hours later to the phone ringing. He had left strict instructions with the front desk and with Mildred not to be disturbed. He looked at the clock - 6:00AM. They had been sleeping for nearly 24 hours. It was time to get up.

Laura grabbed the phone. "Hello? … It's alright Mildred … The office?" Laura was confused. "Daniel?" Laura rolled her eyes and passed the phone over to Steele. "There was a message from Daniel," she told him.

He took the phone. "Yes Mildred … Where? … Do you know when? … Yes, thank you." He handed the phone back to Laura and stayed silent for a long moment. "I guess Ireland will have to wait," he stated. "Daniel wants to see me … he is in Sanremo."

"Italy?" She was surprised. "What is he doing in Italy … never mind … probably conning some Countessa out of all her money." She got up.

He didn't respond and leaned back against the pillows.

"Probably wants to pull you into the scam." She disappeared into the bathroom.

Steele shook his head. Daniel had never called before. If he wanted him for some con, then he would have just shown up with a plan and two tickets. It was not like Daniel to call and request a visit.

She popped her head out of the bathroom. "So you are going." She stated.

He nodded without looking at her. "Yes," he said slowly. "But you don't have to … I know how you feel about Daniel."

"I don't dislike him," she tried to sound convincing. She noticed that he was very distracted. "What are you thinking?"

He looked up at her. "Nothing … it's just strange."

"He probably read about us in the papers and wants all the gory details," she dismissed.

He took her place in the bathroom without commenting.

"You are really going," she called after him.

"I am," came his muffled reply as he brushed his teeth. "I owe him as much."

"You OWE HIM?" She came into the bathroom.

He turned the shower on and waited for the water to heat up. "Yes." He turned to her. "You may not understand this, but Daniel had a profound affect on me – with the possible exception of one other person, the most profound affect anyone has ever had on me. If it weren't for him, I'm sure I would be dead, in jail or lying in a gutter somewhere."

"I think that's a bit extreme," she dismissed.

"Then you don't fully appreciate where I was when I met Daniel." He stepped into the shower and that was the end of his part of the conversation.

Mildred knocked on the door. "I have us booked on the first flight I could get to Nice. We need to be at Heathrow in 90 minutes."

"Change of plans, Mildred." Laura declared packing what little clothes she had brought with her. "Mr. Steele will be going without us, we are going back to Los Angeles."

"Excuse me?" Mildred didn't understand. "What's changed?"

"Nothing has changed Mildred, that's the problem." Laura pointed toward that bathroom. "He gets a call from Daniel and he is on he next plane. No question, no discussion … nothing."

"I see." Mildred had seen this side of Laura before and was waiting her turn to speak.

"How do you call that a partnership, I ask you? Much less a marriage." She zipped her suitcase closed. "I was a fool to think otherwise. He'll never change."

"He's not the only one." Mildred tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but didn't really try that hard.

"I think I have sacrificed quite a bit," Laura snapped. "And changed … a lot for this … whatever the hell it's called."

"It's a relationship, Miss Holt … good, bad or indifferent; it's a relationship with give and take."

Laura scoffed. "I give and he takes."

"You don't believe that," Mildred accused.

"No." She sunk down on to the bed. "No I don't, but …"

"But what?"

"How can I trust him … how can I run a business – build a life with him if every time he gets a call from Daniel or one of a hundred 'old friends' he drops everything and runs off on some scheme?"

"Is that really what is happening?" Mildred challenged.

"How would you describe it?"

She shrugged. "Honoring a friend's request."

"Please!!" she dismissed.

"You would do the same," she told her. "A call comes in from an old friend, he asks to see you and you go – that's what friends do."

Laura shook her head.

"Laura, I know you didn't ask for my advice, but I am going to give it to you anyway." She paused briefly to see if Laura would stop her. She didn't so Mildred went on. "If you really are in a marriage –"

Laura looked away.

"A relationship or even just a partnership that you want to continue then you have to accept his friends, his family, his baggage … just like he has to accept yours."

Laura crossed her arms and didn't say anything.

"I'm speaking from experience, honey. If you start putting wedges between you, if you start making him choose, if you demand that he change … you may win a few or more than a few, hell you may win them all, but it won't make you happy, and it won't make him happy and in the end it is you who will lose."

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

There had been a strained silence between them as they packed and made their way to Heathrow. It wasn't as if they weren't speaking to each other, but they just kept the necessary questions directed through Mildred.

Laura had been remembering all her encounters with Daniel and the struggle they had trying to 'win' him as if he were a prize. Daniel more than implied that the only reason he (Steele) was still around was that he was waiting to get Laura in to bed and then he would be gone. Of course the phone call and Steele willingness to go without question or consultation confirmed her worst fears. He came very close to telling her that Steele could never be domesticated, that she was doomed to be left by him and that the only control she would ever have is to leave – or kick him out first – into Daniel's waiting hands no doubt. But as she looked back Daniel might have been playing on her fears rather than speaking from an intimate knowledge of how 'Harry''s mind worked. She had never really liked Daniel. He was smug, arrogant and condescending. She wondered what Steele had ever seen in him. She remembered the comment that Daniel made about what Steele – or Harry was like when they met. Words like: uneducated, unsophisticated, unwanted, hostile and violent. She had didn't dispute it at the time or even follow up with Steele about the validity of it, but could never really see the man she knew as Remington Steele as that juvenile delinquent living by his wits and his fists on the streets of London. But if it were true and Daniel had something to do with turning his life around, then she could completely understand Steele's loyalty.

When the plane finally took off and they were served their second glass of champagne Laura decided to end her silence.

"So tell me about Daniel," she asked honestly with no strain in her voice. "How old were you when you met him?"

Steele scanned her face to decide if she were earnestly asking or just trying to make a case against Daniel. She seemed sincere enough. "I was about 14 – 15, I'd guess."

"And you picked his pocket?" She prompted.

He smiled. "I did … it was clean too."

"How did he know it was you?"

"Ah, well that is a story." He turned in his seat to look at her. "He stuck around the station, stayed in the corner and watched. He pulled me aside when he had seen enough – demanded his wallet back, with all the money he had in it or he would turn me over to the police."

"You gave it back?"

"I denied the whole thing … got very offended; threated to call the cops myself; tied to fight my way free … full of piss and vinegar, I was. He didn't bat an eye; just calmly demanded his wallet. I would have given it back to him, but I had dumped it hours before … had no idea where."

"What happened?"

"He made me find it … tossed me into the dumpster to dig it out."

"Sounds like there was something more in that wallet than just money."

"That's why you're such a good detective." He pressed her hand. "A key … never knew exactly what it went to, but when I found the wallet, he pulled the key out of it and put it in a different pocket."

"He let you go?" She asked.

He nodded. "With a piece of advice and a promise."

"What did he say?"

"He said that I was good, better than good … that I was better than hustling for a few quid on the streets of London. Said that if I cleaned myself up (which was more than just taking a bath once a week), that he could use a kid like me. Said he could show me the world and we would go first class all the way."

"What did you say?"

"I laughed him off. I thought he was looking for something else from me – if you know what I mean."

Laura nodded.

"But his words stuck in my head and lit a fire in me. He was the first person I had ever met that had said I could be more than I was." He laughed. "Most people told me I was worthless and would never be more than stupid little c-." He stopped himself. "One thing was for sure, I needed to get out of London."

"Xenos in Greece … the Killkenny Kid in South America."

"Among others. Not steps up, but at least in better weather. The next time I ran into Daniel I was about 17 or 18 and ready for a change." He leaned back in his seat. "Taught me how to dress, talk, eat with the proper fork, appreciate the arts," He turned to look at her. "Appreciate a woman." He pulled her hand to his lips briefly. "Hell, I had my first taste of champagne and caviar with Daniel." He smiled. "Daniel may be a con man, but he sure knows how to live and he helped me put my skills to better use."

"You moved up from pickpocket to con man and thief." She stated not very impressed with the transformation.

"All in the past, my dear," he touched her arm and leaned in close to her. "I'm a new man now – I have a wife and a business to think about." He grinned in that disarming way he had.

She couldn't deny that he was charming when he wanted to be. "I'm glad you remember that."

"How could I forget?" He kissed her.

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

When they arrived at the Villa Daniel was not there to meet them. Sophie, the housekeeper showed them to their rooms and asked them to join Mr. Chalmers for cocktails on the terrace at 6PM. 6PM was several hours away, Steele needed to know what was going on sooner. He went in search of Daniel and found him in a drawing room on the first floor. It had been turned into a hospital room and there was a nurse attending to him. Steele chose to walk away. He didn't say anything to Laura and waited not so patiently for the appointed time.

"Ah, Harry … and Mildred … " Daniel announced as they joined him on the terrace.

"Daniel," Steele shook his hand warmly noticing that he did not move much from the spot he was in.

"And Linda my dear, lovely as ever." Daniel took her hand. "I understand there are congratulations to be given … May I kiss the bride?"

Laura leaned in and reluctantly gave him her cheek. She wanted to be annoyed at this man, she wanted to gloat over the fact that she had 'won' and taken 'Harry' away from him, but all of that fell away when she saw the tiredness in his eyes. There was something wrong, something very wrong with him. He was thin and frail – completely different from the man she parted from a year prior.

"Harry, my boy." He waved toward the tray with drinks on it. "Would you do the honors?"

Steele poured while Daniel made idle chit-chat with Mildred. "Have you seen the grounds? The gardens are magnificent and the view is spectacular. Dinner is not for another hour."

Mildred took the hint. "I think I will go down and see for myself." She told the group.

"Linda, why don't you join her?" Laura was excused as well.

She would normally have felt that they were going to hatch some scheme, but after seeing Daniel, she knew his scheming days were over. "I think I will." She put her glass down and left with Mildred.

Daniel slumped down in the closest chair and tried to suppress his coughing.

"Daniel?" Steele sat down across from him.

"It's nothing, my boy." He coughed a few more times and sipped some water. "It comes and goes … coming mostly these days."

"What does?"

Daniel didn't want to say it out loud – to give credence to his murderer. "I'm dying, Harry," he said simply. "I suppose we all have to some time … my time just came earlier than I had hoped."

"What has been done?"

"Everything that could be done." He smiled. "Some times you can't con your way out. Don't worry, Harry. I have had a good life … no regrets." He smiled "Remember the time …"

Daniel and Harry talked and laughed for a long time about their past exploits, some that Harry had completely forgotten.

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Laura walked silently beside Mildred. She was in her own head.

"Where are you, Miss Holt?" Mildred finally asked.

Laura turned to her, "Miss Holt?"

"Old habit," Mildred smiled. "Laura … you are a million miles away – where are you?"

"More like a million years in the past." She sat down on a bench that looked out over the Mediterranean. "I was thinking about my father."

"Oh?" Mildred sat down next to her. Mildred had never heard Laura talk about her father and she understood it was a sore subject. "What got you thinking about that?"

"Daniel and Mr. Steele," she said. "It occurred to me that Daniel is more of a father to him than my father ever was to me."

"Your father left when you were 16?" Mildred prompted not knowing how accurate Laura's statement was.

"The day after my sister got married," Laura explained. "Not that he was around much before that. He was always working, or at least that is what he told us."

"You know differently?" There were too many questions to ask, Mildred stuck to the text.

"He was having an affair … it had been going on for years." She shook her head. "I don't think my mother ever knew, but if she did, she never let on."

"How did you find out?" Mildred asked. "Did he introduce you after the break up."

"HA," Laura scoffed unable to hide her anger. "He never made an attempt to contact me after he left." Laura told her. "No calls, no weekends, no Christmas cards, no birthday cards … nothing. It was as if he had died." She looked past the horizon. "Come to think of it, I am not sure he ever paid alimony or child support. I know damn well he didn't pay for my college and my grandmother had to help quite a bit during that time."

Mildred waited for her to continue.

"I hated my father for walking out on us and I felt like a fool for loving him and missing him. I was confused and hurt and scared and ashamed … when I allowed myself to think about it – to FEEL about it. I didn't really have much time. My mother was devastated … you know my mother, she can barely make out a grocery list … and with Frances out of the house – I had to take care of myself and my mother." She wiped at her eyes worried that a 16 year olds tears might fall. "Years later, when I opened my first detective agency I had a lot of time on my hands, so I tracked him down – it wasn't that hard, but it was the first time I had thought to do it. It was 12 years after he left … I remember. I found him 12 years -- to the day after he left."

"Did you speak to him?"

"No," she said coldly. "But I spoke to his wife and his daughters." She looked at Mildred to be sure that Mildred knew that Laura was not mean and spiteful. "They didn't know who I was."

Mildred wasn't expecting a new family.

Laura faked a smile and a pained laugh. "I suppose I should have been flattered."

"Flattered?"

"His oldest daughter was a beautiful, happy, bright, articulate, secure 13 year old girl." She looked away – the shame and hurt full on her again as it was when she was 16 and again at 28. "He named her Lauren."

Mildred did the math in her head quickly. Clearly the girl had been born before Laura's father had left. "I'm sorry Laura."

Laura nodded and stuffed it all back down. With one quick cleansing breath she was back to the in control, confident, the standoffish Laura that Mildred had known. "Do you know that I have never told anyone that story? … I hadn't even really thought about it in years, blocked it from my mind."

"I can understand why."

"Please don't tell …"

Mildred put her hand over Laura's. "This is not my story to tell."

"Thank you."

"But you have done nothing wrong, and you have nothing to be ashamed of." Mildred added before putting her arms around Laura and hugging her hard. There were so many things to say but Mildred knew that nothing would assuage the hurt that Laura felt.

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Ah yes, the good old days." Daniel had a small coughing fit again. When it was over he nodded to an envelope on the table. "For you." He coughed again.

Steele reluctantly took the envelope and pulled out the papers inside. "This looks like a deed," he stated. "A deed to this house."

"I want you to have it, Harry. Call it a wedding present … or the place you can go when Laura kicks you out."

"Daniel --."

"It's paid for, just taxes and upkeep … and visit once in a while, the place needs a master."

Steele was speechless. He looked at the other document. It was a birth certificate. "What is this?"

"Well, Harry … that is you … your birth certificate at any rate." Daniel said proudly.

"MINE?" He immediately looked down in search of the name he had been missing and for one other. It wasn't there "Father: Unknown" it read.

"How did you get this?" He looked back up at Daniel.

"I am not such a bad detective myself, you know Harry." He shrugged. "I actually hired a detective, but I told him where to look and what to look for. I have the rest of the story, if you're interested."

Steele looked back down at the document in his hand and reread the child's name – his name - again. "Well that is one mystery solved – I guess Laura will be pleased." Oddly holding that document in his hands changed nothing for him. He wondered how it would impact Laura.

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

They had said nearly nothing to each other the entire flight back to Los Angeles a few days later. There was not really much to be said … at least not about recent events; past events were resolved and future events were on hold (for the moment). Nothing was hidden, nothing was kept from the other, but it really didn't change that much and there was nothing really to discuss. They were on their way home, back to pick up the lives they left behind – or there abouts.

The taxi driver dropped Mildred off first and then took our heroes back to Laura's loft.

"I feel like we have been away for a hundred years," she said as he paid the driver.

He picked up their bags and directed her to the door. "I hope you aren't expecting me to carry you over the threshold."

"Maybe another time." She unlocked the door and let him precede her in.

Moments later they were standing in the wreckage that was THE LOFT – their combined belongings and ostensibly the home they were longing to get back to. His boxes and 'stuff' carelessly stored in her apartment. Every counter and edge covered with dust. A dank and musty odor filled the room.

"Home Sweet Home," he said dropping the bags.

"Four Seasons, Mr. Steele?" she asked as disappointed as he was at what they had found.

"Normally, I would say yes," he owned. "But not this time. Besides ... " He ripped open a box and pulled out several bottles of wine. "Thank you Mildred." He kissed the bottle. "We need to give that woman a raise."

"We need to do a lot more than that."

He shrugged his agreement. "Call for Chinese Mrs. Steele, while I start the shower." He stuffed a bottle in the freezer and put the others in the fridge before heading to the bathroom. "And crack a few windows, would you?"

Several hours later they sat on the floor of her bedroom in robes and wet hair with too many cartons to mention of Hop Li's Chinese Delivery.

She pulled the last shrimp out of the General Tsao's carton. "I have missed American Chinese."

He was picking the peanuts out of the Kung Pao Pork. "I think it has to do with the DELIVERY … God Bless America."

"Here, here," she touched her champagne glass to his. "So … work or apartment hunting?" she asked.

"For tomorrow?" He inquired as he snatched the last pot sticker and nearly swallowed it whole. "No use putting off the inevitable." He added.

"How about I go to the office," she started. "And you find us a real estate agent and we meet for lunch and compare notes?"

"Divide and conquer … you haven't missed a beat have you?" He leaned in to kiss her but stopped just short.

"And you knew I wouldn't, didn't you Harry?" She smiled and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"'Harry'?" He asked.

"Do you mind?" She was worried that he might.

"I don't understand." He was about to point out that they now had a "good name" to call him.

"'Harry' fits you better," she lied. "At least when it's just you and I." She was clearly choosing to keep Daniel's name for him alive.

He was touched – really, really touched. "Thank you."

"We can bring him here, you know." She started, scared to broach the subject of Daniel's heath. "There are great doctors in the US."

He shook his head. "He had made his peace with it."

"Have you?" she asked.

"In time." He pushed all the cartons out of his way. "In the mean time, I have a wife, a wedding, a honeymoon and a business that I need to get back to … and I am thinking that the order on that is just fine."

She wrapped her arms around him. "Put me first on any list and you have my vote."

"Consider your position locked." He kissed her.

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Laura showed up at the office the next day. Mildred looked like she had never left, like they had never left. She was in full MILDRED mode. Laura watched her juggle six or seven calls before she could even say 'good morning'.

"Coffee is ready, Miss Holt .. Mrs. Steele … Laura."

Laura smiled. "Can I get you a cup?"

Mildred looked down at her cold cup that she hadn't even had a chance to get to. "Sure."

When Laura came back Mildred was again fielding and making several calls. Some were appointments, some were reporters and some were just to get the services back on. "Thank you."

"Mildred," Laura said slowly. "I know you are really busy, and I know that this could wait a few days … but we have a couple of priorities that we want you to add to your agenda."

"Oh?" She was slightly annoyed. How dare they come back and start making demands. She had been holding down the fort at her own expense for the past three months.

"First and foremost, now that the agency accounts have been unfrozen, you need to transfer funds to yours to cover all the costs that you have incurred over the past few months; for the personal expenses for my loft and moving Mr. Steele. … just tell us how much and we will cut you a check today."

"Oh Laura …" she wasn't going to press the issue but was grateful that she didn't have to bring it up.

"The next thing we need you to do is hire some a crew to clean out and paint Murphy's old office, and for you to order new furniture."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Mr. Steele and I have decided that we need help and if we are to grow this company ... personally I think he just wants to be able to take more time off ... at any rate we need another operative."

Mildred was beginning to get really annoyed.

"And naturally we will need to advertise for the opening." Laura paused for effect. "We need you to put an ad in the paper. We want you to screen, interview and make a recommendation for this new person. They will be a part of our family after all. We trust your judgment implicitly – but we would like to meet this person first."

"Fine," she felt the ire climbing up her spine.

"Good," Laura smiled. She got to her office door and turned back with her cup raised high. "And who ever you hire Mildred, make sure they know how to make coffee the way you do."

"Excuse me?" Mildred was confused.

"Why Mildred?" She could barely contain her smile. "You didn't think we would hire a new operative over you, now did you?"

Mildred just stood there speechless.

"You – as our gatekeeper will be impossible to replace – but I am sure we can all make due to facilitate your changing duties."

"But I haven't finished …" Mildred protested.

"We know … we will sponsor you and do whatever it takes." She came back out to Mildred's desk. "None of us would be here today if it weren't for you Mildred. This is not 'payback', you deserve this."

"Deserve it?" Steele's voice came from the doorway. "You have earned it … more than I have, I dare say."

Mildred nearly cried.

"None of that, none of that ol' girl," he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "There is no crying in investigations."

Just then Laura noticed that there was a man at the door scraping off the "Remington Steele" name on the door. "Excuse me!!" She started for the door.

Steele grabbed her and turned her back toward him. "This one is on me." He stated. "Remington Steele Investigations is no more."

Laura and Mildred shared a look.

"Steele, Steele & Assocs has risen from the ashes." He looked to Laura to see if she would buck him.

"Which Steele is first?" She smiled.

"Brains before beauty, I always say." He kissed her quickly to keep her from responding.

Just then there was a commotion in the hall as a man pushed aside the door painter and made his way into the office. "Which one is Steele?" he asked. "My dog was just stolen."

"Your dog?" Mildred tried to field it.

"Yeah, my poodle worth about a million dollars … I will pay anything to get him back." He announced.

Laura and Harry exchanged a look. "Gotta to start somewhere," they said in unison.

"What did you say your name was?" Laura asked leading him into the office.

As the door closed the phone rang. "Steele, Steele and Associate." Mildred announced into the phone, "Yes Ma'am. Can you be here at 1:30? … We will see you then."

Mildred hung up the phone. Everything had changed, but it was all the same (more or less). "Can't wait to see what tomorrow will bring." She said to the empty room. Two lines started to ring and there was no time to consider. Today was just another day.

**oOoOoOoOoOo oOo oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**If you had read thus far, THANK YOU. I do apologize for taking so long to get this out (I hope I didn't disappoint). I miss Larua and Steele. I miss the 80's when life and gas prices were easier to handle. We all go on, we all get older … but some things shouldn't change – and that is why GOD or whomever invented DVDs and the internet. Thanks again for reading. If you enjoyed or even if you found this mildly entertaining a quick note would be appreciated. If you hated it – why are you still here after 8 chapters? Oh well. Thanks again.**


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